


Haven

by AngelBaby76



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, F/M, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-02-17 06:04:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 38,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2299157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelBaby76/pseuds/AngelBaby76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being pulled out of his so called normal life, Sam Winchester still carries a grudge against his brother. After a huge blow up between the two brothers, Sam walked away, never to look back again. A week after taking off from Dean, Sam finds himself in a small town in North Eastern Oklahoma. When Sam finds the local diner, he sees a flier for a ranch hand. It includes free room and board for exchange for work on the ranch. Sam is offered the job and him and the rancher's daughter grow closer. But Sam notices something very off about the family. Katie seems jumpy at times, hearing her screams coming from her room at night. As he digs deeper, Sam is shocked at what he finds. He debates whether or not to include Dean in this. The deeper her digs the more he uncovers a very dark secret that will rock Katie's world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter  One

 

He opened his eyes, adjusting to the darkness as he lay in the back-seat of an old Honda he had hot-wired. It had been sitting in a parking lot, the dust on the windows, telling him it had been there for a while. No one would miss it. He didn't think it would even start. His brother was the mechanic in the family, but he knew enough. After a few minutes, the car stuttered to a start. He drove as far as he could before he felt sleep overcome him and he knew he couldn't last much longer. He found a dirt road that seemed to be out of the way and drove the car down the dusty road. He found a spot near a grove of oak trees and debated if he should turn the car off or not. He was afraid that if he did, the car would never start up again. Then again, he didn't want to waste the precious gas, what little there was of it.

As he climbed into the back-seat, he took off his jacket, balled it up and put it under his head. He stretched out his long frame, placing his feet out the window, feeling a little silly. How he missed his brother's car, it was made for back seat sleeping.

He wasn’t sure what had woken him, but he had been in the most intense dream of his life. He was in the presence of a woman. He could only see her from the nose up, but she had long blonde hair and the fullest lips he had ever seen. She was speaking to him, but he couldn’t understand the words. She sounded so far away. All he could remember was the urgency she was trying to scream to him.

He sat up in the seat, groaning at the tightness in his neck. He had to get a job soon, he was running low on cash and he craved a bed. He could see the sun coming up over a row of oak trees. He moved his hand along the back seat, feeling the shape of his gun. Large hands rubbed over his face and he squinted as he looked at the time.A frown came over his face as he saw the several missed calls and voice mail he had waiting for him. A number he was not ready to call back just yet. He let out a sigh and moved his arms over his head, stretching out the kinks in his back. He opened the back door of the Honda and moved to the front seat. He pumped the gas a few times and started up the car, feeling the little car shake under the strain.

The map had informed him that there was a little town just a few miles up the road, so he took the quiet stretch of farm road that ran through it. He noticed a small diner just up ahead as the Honda stuttered down the main strip, so he parked the car between two pickup trucks. He parked the car between two huge, lifted trucks, squeezing in between the space between the car and the truck next to him. He let a smile come to his face as he knew his brother would make some smart remark at the size of the truck.

A bell jangled over his head as he scanned the small diner, looking for the best possible seat and he found it. It was tucked in the corner next to the bathroom, but he didn't care.

“Be right with ya hon!” A hoarse voice yelled from the kitchen. It was a voice that was the product of years of smoking. He noticed a woman's head poke from the opening that led from behind the counter to the kitchen window. Her face was lined with wrinkles, her black hair piled up into a bun, reading glasses hanging from a chain around her neck.

He lifted his hand and waved at her and made his way to the table, feeling the eyes on him as he walked past the tables. Next to the bathroom was a cork board and he walked up to it, hoping some kind of job would be posted. On the front, covering up the others, was a large blue piece of paper. Its neat handwriting was scrawled along the surface:

Ranch hand wanted. Free room and board in exchange for work at the Chapman Farm..Inquire within.  
**  
Doris Jefferson sighed and looked at the small watch that was on her wrist, a gift from her late husband. He had spent his bonus money on this watch, telling Doris she was worth it. And sadly, he passed away a few days later. She grabbed the carafe of coffee and made her way to the table where the newcomer was located.

“Hey there, welcome to Delia's Kitchen, coffee?”

The boy looked up from the menu, a smile on his face, dimples began on either side of his face. He handed her the empty cup. “Thank you.”

Doris smiled and poured the coffee, watching him. “You just passing through?”

He smiled and took a sip of the coffee. “Hadn't made up my mind.”

Doris smiled. “Ain't much here in Haven, hon. If you're lookin for big city life, I say head to Tulsa.”

“No thanks. Kinda just want to get away from all that.”

The bell over the door jangled as a young woman ran into the diner, out of breath. She quickly walked to the waitress station, grabbing the red apron and tying it around her waist. “I'm so sorry Doris, Samson got out of his pen somehow. I had to track him down.”

Doris turned to greet the young woman, a frown on her face. “Third time this week.”

She approached the table, taking out the tablet from her the front pocket of her apron. Her young face beamed at the boy sitting at the table, as they watched Doris walk away. She let out a breath and tucked a curl behind her ear as she turned back to Sam. “I'm so sorry. Do you know what you want yet?”

Sam Winchester smiled up at the girl before him, taking note how beautiful she was. She was a little on the petite side, blond hair swept into a pony tail. Her eyes were storm cloud blue and they twinkled when she smiled at him. His eyes slid over to where her name tag was located, taking a second to check her out, than up to her eyes. “Uh..actually.. Katie..” He slid the flier from under the table mat. “I have some questions about this.”

Katie Chapman looked down at the flier and frowned, placing her hand on her right hip. “Yeah, that's stealing property right there.”

Sam slid a smile to her. “Actually..that's a community bulletin, so it's public property.”

She studied him for a moment than tucked the pen behind her ear, clearly annoyed, “Like the flier says, free room and board. You interested?”

“How far is the farm from here?”

Katie slid him a smile and leaned in a bit so only he could hear her. “I know the owner. I'm actually off in a few hours.. Meet me back here at one? I can take you there.” She slid him a flirty smile.

“Uh..yeah sure.” Sam slid her a smile. He thrust the flier between them. “And here's the brochure. No hard feelings?”

Katie felt herself a little giddy as she took the flier from this boy's hands. He was very cute and God those dimples could melt ice. His hair was a little longer than she was used to, brushing the collar of his denim jacket. She could tell by the way he folded his legs under the table, he was very tall. Tall and handsome with manners? He definitely wasn't from around her. All they had around here were jocks who thought they were God's gift to women. Dating in the Chapman home was no existent. Since her mother died, her father was a sticker for the men she dated. She couldn't just go out on dates, she had to bring them home. And that entailed questions not short of an interrogation that left many not ever coming back. How how she wished for a normal family life. She sighed and tucked the flier under her arm. “So...what can I getcha Dimples?”

Sam turned his attention to the menu, snapping out of his trance. Her voice was a little husky, but very sexy on her. That twang of hers was adorable and he loved the freckles splashed across her nose and cheeks. “Uh...bacon and eggs.”

“Hmm...OK choice. If you're boring.”

Sam looked up from the menu, his eyes sweeping over her body. Her legs were very muscular, her waist small and her chest just a little big for her frame.“Uh...so, what you recommend?”

She clicked the pen on the pad and smiled at him. “What I order.” She leaned over him just a bit and opened the menu to the third page. “Eggs, sausage, bacon, avocado, cheddar cheese omelet.”

Sam chuckled and felt his cheeks began to redden just a bit. The smell of her perfume wafted over him , along with another smell he couldn't pinpoint. “Alright that sounds good....I'll have that then.”

“Great. Good with coffee?” Sam nodded and she winked at him and walked to the bar, hoping that her inside turmoil wasn't showing. God, why is my heart beating so fast? Her palms were sweaty, and she was grinning like a damn school girl. It had been a long time since she had a man make her feel like that. As she poured his coffee, she watched him as he looked out the large picture window, watching the town folk walk past the window.

Sam felt as if someone was watching him so he turned his head to see the pretty waitress looking at him from the coffee station. Her cheeks tinged pink as she realized she had been caught and she turned from his gaze. Sam slid her a smile as he turned back to look out the window.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean tries to track down where his brother is located. A familiar voice from the past calls him up and lets him know of a new case.

 

_**Boulder Colorado:** _

  
Somewhere on the back stretch of an unfamiliar highway , Dean Winchester finally gave in and pulled over to the side. It was a small, dark glade off the road, and he was able to pull in out of view from other cars . He needed some sleep. He had been lulled by the hum of the car's engine, the drum of the tires on the pavement. His whole body ached and his eyes felt like sandpaper. What felt like three nights of sleep for the past month was catching up to him. He needed a break, or else hewould soon be dead to the world.  
  
He turned off the engine of his _pride and joy_ and leaned back in the leather seat, closing his eyes as he folded his arms across his chest. He had spent the past month trying to track down his little brother, but it was if he vanished off the face of the earth. Dean had taught him too well because there were no credit card traces. If Sam was trying to fall off the face of the earth, he had succeeded, because it was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. _Just a few hours._ Dean told himself as he closed his eyes. That's all the seasoned hunter would ever need, just a few hours and he would be good as new.  
  
He had just fallen asleep when he felt the vibration of his phone coming from the passenger seat next to him. On such a quiet road any sound of that nature would be magnified tenfold. Dean let out a string of curse words as he fumbled for the phone, and his hand finally clasped the metallic surface. He sat up and blinked the sleep out of his eyes a few times as he flipped the phone open. It wasn't the number he was hoping for.  
  
“Bobby, what's the good word?” Dean's still-sleepy voice said, gruff from not talking to anyone for a while. He didn’t even give the man the time to say hello.  
  
“Got a job for ya Dean.”  
  
“I told you Bobby, I ain't doing any jobs,” Dean sighed as he laid his head back in the seat, feeling a headache coming on.  
  
“This one is a little interesting. There’s a couple of missing kids.”  
  
“So?” Dean was beginning to get annoyed. Bobby knew better than to interrupt him when he wanted to sleep.  
  
“I asked myself the same question, but then...” Bobby paused and Dean heard the rustle of papers. Dean closed his eyes, seeing the scene in front of him. A man sitting at a table, his hands scratching the rough beard that grew on his face. A tattered John Deer cap hanging low on his head and a bottle of a half empty Scotch sitting to his right. This man did not believe in computers like Sam did, he preferred, no, he loved, the old school way. “I contacted an old lady friend of mine.” Bobby stopped as he heard Dean snort. “Got something to say to me son?”  
  
Dean sighed and rubbed his face, feeling the fog finally lift from his mind. The one thing that woke him up more than anything was the prospect of a job, even an unwanted job. Hunting was his life.It was deep in his blood. Although he had tried, however briefly, in the past, he could never give this life up. Sam, however, turned his back on his family. Dean wanted nothing more right now than to find his little brother and kick the crap out of him.  
  
“Nothing. Go on.” He sat back up his fingers reaching underneath. They searched for a few seconds, until they brushed against something metal. With a smirk on his face, Dean slid the flask out from under the seat and twisted off the cap. He tipped his head back expecting to feel the familiar burn of the Scotch, but he got air instead. He closed one eye and peered into the empty flask and shook it. Disheartened he screwed the cap back on and threw it into the backseat.  
  
“As I was saying,” Bobby continued, “ I asked her do some digging. The kids are from different parts of the country. One from Texas, another from Missouri and the third is from Colorado. Nothing tells me that these should be related. Too random.”  
  
“But then you wouldn't be calling me, would you?” Dean braced the phone against his shoulder as he leaned over to the glove box. He yanked it open and rummaged inside, until he felt the bottle. A smile came to his face as he saw the amber liquid sloshing in the bottle. He unscrewed the cap and took a huge swig. He grimaced as the burn flowed down his throat to his empty stomach.  
  
“Now you're cooking with gas. What ties these kids together. They all had nursery fires when they were six months old.”  
  
Dean was in the process of putting the bottle back to his lips, when Bobby dropped the bombshell. “. That sounds too familiar…”  
  
“Yeah. Just like Sam. So, Dean, the next question we ask ourselves: Why are these kids disappearing? And how many are out there?  
  
***  
The clock taunted her, the hands moving too slowly along the face as she watched it. Her chin was braced with her palms, her elbows supported them on the counter. Not a single customer was in the restaurant and she was afraid of breathing a word about it to anyone.  
  
Ten more minutes and she was out of this dump for a week – a week of nothing but riding her horse Samson from sun up to sun down. But there was something else now. The prospect of that cute boy with the dimples working on her farm sent a flush throughout her body. As if she cued him with her very thoughts, the bell above the door jangled.  
  
She sat up too quickly , almost crying out in pain when her teeth bit down on her tongue as she hit her elbow against the counter. She tried to gracefully recover as she turned to greet him.His hands were stuffed into that dirty brown jacket, his long frame standing awkwardly in the doorway. _Oh yes_ , she thought. _He_ _is_ _definitely not from around here_.  
  
“Well hey, Dimples,” She flashed him a smile as he strode over to the bar, his long legs making no noise as he slid into one of the stools. “You showed.”  
  
He gave her a smile, showing off his nickname, “Well, I couldn't pass up such a great opportunity, can I?”  
  
“I get off in ten minutes. Coffee?”  
  
Sam picked up the mug and handed it to her. She filled it and looked into his hazel eyes. “So…you have the pleasure of my name.” She pointed to the name tag on her apron. “But I don't have the pleasure of yours?”  
  
Sam took a sip of the bitter drink and sat the mug on the bar as he extended his hand, “Sam...Sam Winchester.”  
  
Katie noticed he took his coffee black. “Well Sam Winchester. Like I said, I get off in ten minutes.” She winked at him than walked to where the kitchen was located and began the preparations of closing the diner.  
  
As Sam finished his coffee and he was instructed to wait by her dark blue _Ford_ that was in the parking lot. Sam popped up the collar of his jacket as he walked across the street, slowing down for a car that moved past him. He noticed a dark blue older style _Ford_ parked in front of the local drug store. The truck had seen years on the road, rust on the paint, a few dents throughout the body. Being around Dean for so long, Sam already had a tally of what he could fix on that truck.  
He leaned against the body and stuffed his hands back into the pockets of his jacket and waited. He was a stranger in this small town and everyone knew it. As they walked past him they eyed him suspiciously, as if to see what harm he would do. He tried to smile at them, but they quickly ducked their heads and walked faster.  
  
***  
The door swung shut with a heavy thud as Dean Winchester bent down, peering into the reflection of the driver's side window and adjusted his blue tie. He smoothed his short dark hair with the palm of his handand smirked at his reflection, rather pleased with how well he cleaned up. He straightened up and turned to face the house in front of him.  
  
It was a two story stucco house that was a carbon copy of the ones lined along the street. It was one of those upper-class neighborhoods where everyone drove a Mercedes or Lexus. As he strode across the street he slid out the information in his pocket and reread what Bobby had given him over the phone, _Janice Brooks. Mother of a Lexi Brooks. 20 year old who disappeared two nights ago._  
  
Dean had no idea why he was even here. It was a clear-cut case. Lexi had been walking home from her friends’ house when she was kidnapped. There were no known suspects, no evidence. It was if she had vanished into thin air. Instincts prickled along Dean's spine, telling him now that it was more than that.  
  
As he rang the doorbell, he slid the piece of paper into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small billfold . When he heard the click of the lock and watched the door swingwide, Dean flipped it open.  
  
A middle aged woman in a dark blue sweater appeared behind from behind the door as it opened. Her blue eyes, tinged with red, blinked at him through the screen door, her lips drawn into a thin line. “Can…can I help you?”  
  
“Agent Mulder, FBI. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions?”  
  
The woman crossed her arms over her chest, frowning at Dean. “I'm sorry, but I've already told the police everything I know.”  
  
“Yes, M'am. I understand they have. But this is just a follow up. See if maybe you remember anything else?”  
  
The woman looked at him, her blue eyes studying his features . “Can I see that badge again please?” Her eyes darted from his face to his hand as it slid into the inside pocket of his jacket . She wasn't sure but she thought she saw the flash of silver. He reproduced his badge and finally she caved, “Agent Mulder? Come on in.” She stepped to the side as Dean pulled open the screen door and walked into the small foyer. “Can I get you something to drink? I just made some iced tea .”  
  
“Yes, thank you,” Dean said as he followed her down a hallway that was jammed packed with family pictures. He stepped inside a modest kitchen that didn't hold much in the way of appliances. He scooted back a wooden chair that was at a small table near a door to the backyard and sat down. “ Lexi Brooks is your daughter correct?”  
  
“Yes, in a sense. .” She sat a full glass of tea in front of Dean. “Lexi is my niece.”  
  
Dean looked up from his small notebook he had brought with him and tried not to show his shock. “Niece?”  
  
“Yes.” Her hands snaked up to a small locket that lay on the bodice of her blouse. Her long fingers wrapped around it as her eyes darted around the kitchen. “She was my sister's baby. When...when Lexi was just six months old, my sister was killed in an accident.”  
  
Dean moved his iced tea to the side and leaned forward. “Mrs. Brooks. Was it by chance a fire?”  
  
“How... how did you know that?”Janice’s bottom lip trembled as she looked at the young man in front of her, finally sitting down to join him . “It was hushed about what happened to Katherine.”  
  
“Mrs. Brooks..”  
  
“Janice. Please.”  
  
Dean slid her a smile. “Janice...have you noticed anything strange in the past few days with Lexi? Any cold spots in the house? Unusual smells?”  
  
Janice scrunched her forehead, not sure what to make of what this FBI Agent was asking her. “No...no...not that I noticed. But Lexi she…I don't know maybe I'm just being paranoid. I mean she is in her early twenties, right?”  
  
“What Janice? Remember every little thing, no matter if you think it’s silly, will help us find Lexi.”  
Janice bit her bottom lip again, her fingers twirling around the necklace. Her eyes darted to the cabinet, then back to Dean. She pushed back her chair and walked over to it and opened a drawer. Taking out a small black book she turned to face Dean, clutching it to her chest. “You have to promise me that I will get this back. This...this is all I have...of Lexi.” She removed the book from her bosom and held it out in front of her.  
  
Dean nodded and stood , taking the book from Janice's hands. “I will make sure you get this back.”  
  
Twenty minutes later in a drive thru parking lot, Dean sat behind the wheel of the _Impala_ , his mouth full of burger. He glanced down at the book Janice had just given him, his eyes following the curves of the neat penmanship scrawled across the front. _Lexi Ann Brooks._  
  
He felt a little guilty about even attempting to read this, knowing what he would find. _Chick Flick moments,_ Dean thought, and he shuddered. He kinda wished Sam was here so he'd could pass the book off on him. His younger brother was all for this sappy stuff.  
  
He swallowed the bite as he reached into his inner pocket, taking out his cell phone. He flipped it open and scrolled through the contacts, pausing on Sam's name. His thumb hovered on the call button, not sure what to do. With a sigh, he tossed the phone into the passenger seat, watching it land next to the book.Dean shoved the last bite in his mouth and leaned forward to the car on. He had to find Lexi…if she was still alive.

 


	3. Chapter Three

 

Sam kept to himself as the old truck bounced down a dusty driveway. Sam had to brace his hands on the roof as the truck sped over several dips and ruts. He was done with this car ride and wondered how much longer he had to endure this. Sam watched the driver out of the corner of his eye, and he wasn't sure what to say to this girl sitting next to him. If it had been Dean, he would have come up with some witty banter, something full of sexual innuendos. But Sam could not come up with a damn thing.

“So..uh...how long have you lived here?” Sam asked, clamoring for something. It was starting to get awkward in this truck.

Katie glanced at him, a smile playing across her face. She too was aware of the silence that c **a** me over them as soon as they got in the truck. She had been racking her mind, trying to come up with something, but each scenario was lame.  
“ The farm that I live on is fourth generation. My great, great Grandfather purchased this land when they first opened up Oklahoma to the settlers. But that's boring history stuff,” she chuckled awkwardly as she turned the truck down a shorter,white fence-lined drive that led to a house.

It was a simple two story farm house that boasted faded blue shingles, a wrap-around wooden porch and a huge, ancient oak tree that leaned up against the roof. To Sam it certainly looked like it had been in the family for several generations, with each one leaving their mark. Sam was never bored by history.

Katie parked the truck near a red barn that was tucked in the back corner of the property. She turned off the engine and hopped out her boots hitting a worn-down patch of grass. “Jack!” She yelled as she walked across the lawn to the house.

Sam stopped as he heard the squeak of a screen door and heavy boots striking the wooden boards of the porch. A man stood holding the door in his hands, the afternoon sun casting a long shadow behind him. His rugged features were line with wrinkles and his skin was brown from years of working in the sun. A cowboy hat hung on his head, sitting low on his brow.

“Katie?” The man's voice was deep and his eyes locked on the tall man standing behind his daughter. Seeing the strange boy made his forehead crease, giving him an even more weathered look. “And you are?” Like a peacock strutting his stuff, the man straightened his tall frame.

“ He’s here about the job,” Katie interrupted. She recognized that look on her Dad's face. He did not approve of this man she brought home with her and she was tired of it.  
“I'm sorry, the job is taken,” he huffed as he turned to walk back into the house.

“No it's not Dad. Give him a chance. OK? I have a good feeling about him.”

Jack Chapman slowly turned his head to look at his daughter and saw his wife looking back at him. He had a very strained relationship with Katie and it was his own damn fault. When Katie was just six months old his wife was taken from him, and his whole world caved in on him. It was hard to look at Katie, seeing Grace looking back at him. His lips thinned as he stared at her , knowing it was a no-win argument.

“Ever work on a farm before?” Jack turned to face the taller man who placed one foot up on the step.

“No sir, but I am a fast learner.”

Jack took off his hat and smoothed the thinning brown hair with his palm. He replaced the hat back on his head and crossed his arms over his chest, “I'll give you a week. Got it?”

“Yes Sir.” the boy replied, extending his hand. “Sam Winchester.”

Katie noticed that her father flinched when he heard the last name. His features hardened like stone as he stared at Sam, his eyes staring at thewaiting hand. His jaw began to clench and un-clench, a sign he was angry.

“One week. Katie, show him the bunker, then I want you to come inside and get dinner started.” He glared at Sam once last time before he turned from them letting the screen door slam behind him.

Katie turned to face Sam, a smile pasted on her face. “This way.” Not wanting to look at him, she ducked her head down as she walked past Sam. Her pace was fast as she walked towards the barn but Sam, with his long legs, had no problem keeping up with her. He could tell she was a little upset but he didn’t know about what. Years of hunting and being around his family taught him to read people and read them well. There was a strain between Katie and Jack. Sam knew this because he too had a strained relationship with his father. The past tense of course was _had._

“It's not much, but it's a place to sleep.” She stopped as she opened the barn door and stepped inside. The smell of hay greeted them as she walked along the breeze way and stopped at a door. She opened a door at the far end and stepped inside.

The room was small enough to only allow for a small twin bed and one dresser. A small slat was placed up at the top, letting in some sunlight. The floors were dusty and straw lined the floor, making it obvious that it had once been a stall. Living on the road with Dean, Sam had stayed in much worse. He turned to face Katie. “It's great, thank you.”

She stayed near the doorjamb, leaning up against the frame her arms crossed. “It's yours for how long you want to stay. I don't know if you have family...” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Let's just say, I had a falling out with them. They won't be looking for me and I won't be looking for them.”

“Well, that's good.” She gestured with her head towards the stalls. “Come on, I have some time to give you the ten cent tour.” She licked her suddenly-dry lips as she turned from Sam, feeling more nervous than she expected herself to be.

She lowered her head as she walked through the barn, telling Sam the names of all ten of their horses. Sam didn't think he'd learn all those names within a week and hoped this wasn't part of the test. He was beginning to feel very nervous, knowing he was out of his element. Katie seemed so at ease as she walked along the stalls, running her fingers along each animal’s name plate.

They stopped at every stall, and she would stroke each horse’s mane and whisper to them. Sam watched as their ears would prick up and swivel as Katie spoke to them. To Sam it looked like they moved around on their heads like antennas, and Sam swore he heard them nickering in response to the girl, as if they were having a conversation.

Sam wasn't prepared for when they came to the last stall. A huge head poked its way over the gate as Katie approached the stall. He almost wanted to call to her to stay back from that beast, but it was too late. She was already in the stall, running her hands along the black coat. This was the biggest horse Sam had ever seen.

The horse easily towered over Sam and he quickly took a step back as the horse turned to look at him. Katie smiled and patted the neck.

“And this big boy is my horse, Samson.”

“You....You ride this thing? Wow, that's...umm…impressive. My brother would have so much to say about that.” Sam let his eyes travel over to Katie who was looking at him. He watched as her cheeks turned red, the blush covered her entire face, making her freckles shine.

“Uhh...so...that's it...umm...” Katie turned her gaze from Sam and ran her hands over the horse's neck. “I have to get dinner started...dinner's at six. Jack doesn't like it when people are late.” She stepped out of the stall and slid the gate shut, the lock clanging against the wooden frame. She brushed past Sam, not letting him stop her.

***  
Katie stood at the stove, slowly stirring a wooden spoon in an old pot. She heard footsteps behind her and she turned frowningat Jack as he slid into a chair at their heavy, well-worn table. “Want to tell me what was all about back there?”

Jack took off his hat and laid it on the floor next to him. He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Don't nothing me, Jack,” Katie turned from the stove, her blue eyes dancing with anger. “You have an issue with him already and I want to know why.”

Jack took his fists and slammed the down on the table, making Katie jump. “I will not explain anything to you young lady, got it? Mind your own business .”

Katie sighed and lowered her head. “Yes sir.”

“Go see where our new employee is?” Jack shoved his chair back from the table, the legs scratching against the laminate floor and his chair he stormed to the pantry. He yanked open the door and slid out a bottle of Scotch.

Katie turned and was about to step into the hallway,when a tall form appeared in front of her. She took a step back, her eyes wide,and her mouth half open. Her eyes slid from his face, down his body and then back up again.

He had showered, she could tell by how wet his hair was. The ends curled up from his neck, grazing the collar of his blue plaid shirt. It fit him well, letting her see his massive chest. The corners of her mouth slid up as she smiled.

“Found him!”


	4. Chapter Four

 

They all sat down around the old table and Sam watched the interaction between Jack and Katie. Coming from a broken family himself, Sam could see the signs. Not a word was said between father and daughter as the dinner was served. Jack kept his head down as he ate. He didn't look up once as Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The pressure to break the ice was mounting.

“This… is really good?” Sam smiled as he pointed his fork at the meat.

Katie looked up from her plate when Sam spoke. She gave him a smile that quickly melted when Jack looked up from his. “Thanks.” She blushed as she put her head back down, her blonde hair falling from her shoulders. She stared at her half eaten plate. Oh how she wished her father would just disappear. There was so much she wanted to ask this boy across from her.

Jack chewed around his meat as he felt the phone vibrate on his hip. He leaned forward and took it out of the holder. He frowned as he saw the number. “Excuse me,” he mumbled as he slid back his chair, the wooden legs once again scraping against the floor. He threw the napkin down on his empty plate as he stood.

Jack's long stride led him to the living room where he placed the phone to his ear. His boots stuck heavily on the wooden floor as he paced. “Yeah?......where? OK Good...Keep him there.?...Give me an hour.” He slapped the phone shut. When he returned to the kitchen, Katie was at the sink. “I have to go. Business.”

Katie slowly moved a washcloth over a plate as she stared into the sink. She watched as the soap bubbles popped, splashing warm water on her skin. She didn't turn her head as Jack spoke. “How long?”

“Not sure. But Miguel will be here in the morning.” He turned to face Sam who was sitting at the table. “Six AM sharp.”

Katie kept her pace on the plate as she heard Jack's heavy footfall walk down the hallway. She turned to find Sam clearing the table. “ It's okay. I've got this.”

Sam knew something was troubling Katie. He wanted to ask her and tell her it would be alright. He walked to the sink with the plates in his hand and slid them in the soapy water. “Katie?”

She turned her body back to the sink. “I think you should head to bed, Sam. Miguel doesn't like to be kept waiting in the morning.”

Sam nodded and backed up from the sink. “Okay. Night then...”

Katie sniffed as she placed a fork into the strainer, attempting not to cry. _How embarrassing would that be?_ she thought. Her back was straight, but her shoulder slumped forward ever so slightly. Her long hair framed her face as she kept her head down. “Night Sam.”

Sam walked into the living room where he collected his jacket from the couch. He slid it on his body as he opened the screen door. He stopped just as his foot was about to touch the first step, his hand on the collar of his jacket. He heard a voice, low and deep, coming from near the barn.  
His footsteps were light as he quickly his made way over the worn grass, his hunter instincts beginning to unwillingly kick in. He could see the shadow of a person standing just inside the barn, so he crouched behind the blue truck to stay out of sight . He peered around the tailgate of the truck to see who the shadow belonged too. There was Jack, placing a few items in the of _an_ old _Chevy_ truck. Sam squinted, trying to see what they were, but he couldn’t make out anything.

A loud shrill erupted the silence, and Sam pounded away his beating heart when he realized it was just Jack’s phone.. “Yeah I'm on my way. I’ll be there in a few hours.”

Sam crept around to the front of the truck as Jack slid into the driver's seat. The loud rumbling of the old engine disappeared into the night as Jack drove away from the farm. Sam finally stood and watched the tail lights disappear. He was beginning to wonder what was up with this family as he headed down the barn towards his sleeping quarters. He smelled secrets.

***  
A hundred small orbs blinked on and off, and flickered around the dark yard, the clanging of chains from the porch swing serenaded the lightning bugs. A foot was braced on the porch, the toe slowly moving the swing back and forth. A piece of blonde hair was wrapped around a small finger, the owner thoughtfully watching the fireflies.

A noise from the side of the yard, near where the barn was located, made her stop the swing. Katie slowly turned her head to where the porch light failed to touch. Nothing was stirring, the night air quiet. Frogs were no longer croaking, and the crickets were silent.. She felt a shiver run through her body as she saw the outline of a person walking along the path to the barn. The person stopped and turned her head to look at Katie and that's when she noticed the blond hair. It was flowing around the body and a long white dress billowed around her legs.

“ _Kaattie”_

Katie jumped up from the porch swing, sobs constricted in her throat. “Mom?Wait! Momm!”

Her feet hit the grass and she barley felt the rocks as they bite into her feet. Katie ran down the path after her mother and stopped cold in her tracks. Katie jumped up from the porch swing, sobs constricted in her throat as she recognized the voice. “Mom! Wait! Momm!” Her feet hit the grass and she hardly felt the rocks as they bit into her feet. Katie ran down the path after her mother and stopped cold in her tracks. Instead of where the barn usually was, a wrought iron fence took its place. White mist swirled around the ground wrapped around Katie's legs, and she hugged her arms to her as a chill ran through her body and she suddenly wished for a jacket.

She looked back behind her to make sure her house was still there. It was, and the only light on was her bedroom window. She turned back to look at the huge Victorian gate that was now in front of her, and she attempted to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat.  
As she was debating if she should open the gate or not, when the figure of her mother shimmered just a few feet from her . With shaking hands Katie pushed it open. With a creak and a groan, the gate opened and she stepped inside. Slowly she followed the dirt path that was also covered in mist, and she noticed that her bare feet made no sound on the dirt. She heard a noise behind her and she stopped, reluctantly turning around as her heart hammered in her chest. Her head whipped to the left as she heard the same sound from a different direction.

“Who..who's there?”

She heard another noise, almost like a low growl, coming directly behind her. Her breath caught in her lungs as she slowly turned. When she did, all sense of reasoning left her. Standing before her was a creature straight from the pits of hell itself. It was black in color, blending in to the darkness that surrounded it. The only thing she could see of these creature, were its eyes that glowed red as embers. A low growl came from within the creature's body and it took a step forward.

Katie took two quick steps back, her back coming to rest against a tree. She watched as the dog-like creature approached her, almost seeming to smile at her. When it came within inches of her face, it stopped and sat on its haunches. It cocked its head and looked at her, its eyes gleaming red.

“ **This is your destiny Katie. This is what you are destined to become.** _”_ The dog-like creature kept its glowing eyes on her, their color becoming lighter and lighter until they were amber.

Katie felt an intense burning in her veins and she looked down at her arms. A low mewling sound escaped her lips as her veins began to glow red. The light under her skin began to pulse in time with her heart beat, pain erupting through her body. And this hunger so strong it consumed her. The need for blood was so strong, she couldn't resist it. She let out a scream as she arched her body backwards, her arms stiff at her sides. Her body convulsed with the power that raced throughout her body.

***  
Sam was jarred awake by a sudden whinny, forcing him to spring up from his bed. It was dark in the small bunker and it took a minute for Sam's eyes to adjust. He blinked them a few times as he used his hands to rub the rest of the lingering sleep out. . Maybe it was just his imagination. He slid an arm under his head while the other rested on his chest, waiting.. He was about to lay his head back down in his pillow when _Ping, Ping._ Sam sat back up reluctantly sliding the itchy wool blanket off his body.

He rummaged around in the darkness until he found his jeans and his shirt. As he opened the stall gate, he slid the shirt over his body. He had one foot out the door when he heard a snort and then another _Ping._ It was coming from the stall at the very end of the barn.  
“Samson,” he whispered. “Hey. Shhh.”

A loud nicker came from the stall and the huge head peered over the door. The horse's ears laid flat on his neck. Another nick came from the horse as he began to toss his head up and down, and Sam finally realized the pinging noise was the horse pawing at the door. Sam looked around the rest of the barn to find the other horses quiet. It was just Samson acting up.

He slowly walked to the stall feeling the fear overcome him at the thought of touching this huge horse. But he had to calm him down. . He talked softly to the horse as he approached. He brought his hand forward and stopped before he touched the nose. A loud, piercing scream came from the house, and this set Samson into a frenzy. The stallion began to pace the stall his head bobbing up and down. His large hooves scraping the stall’s lold wooden floor.

Sam turned from the horse and ran barefoot to the front yard, skidding to a halt as he saw the screen door bang open. Katie stumbled out of as her foot hit the frame and she fell to her knees letting out a small cry. Sam swiftly walked up the steps and placed his hands around her arms. She struggled weakly against his grip as he swept her up from the porch. “Katie?Are you okay?”

Katie placed her feet underneath her, moving from Sam's arms. He let go, if ever so hesitantly. As she brushed the hair from her face she felt the flush grow again across her face. “I'm fine....I thought I heard something...it scared me. Sorry about that.” She was still having trouble controlling her breathing, and silently prayed he wouldn’t notice.

“Are you sure?” Sam asked with concern. “I thought I heard you scream.”

Katie nodded and tilted her head. The corners of her mouth tugged into a smile. “Yeah. I'm such a girl.” She tugged her bottom lip with her teeth as she beamed at him. “So. Uh, I can't sleep...and I bet you can't now either.” Katie let out a sigh and glanced towards the other truck parked outside the barn than back to Sam. “Wanna go for a drive?”

Sam scrunched his face into a frown. He was puzzled at Katie's actions. One minute she was screaming, stumbling out of the house looking terrified. Now this. “Uh...I don't know.”

Katie slid her arm through Sam’s and tugged him towards the steps. “Come on. I promise we won't be gone long. There is somewhere I want to go and I don't want to go by myself.”

Sam's dimples popped at he smiled at her, giving in. “Okay then. Let's go.” _Dean would be dying right now if he knew about thi_ _s._ Sam thought as he slid into the passenger seat.

***  
Rocks pinged under the chasse of the old truck as it sped down the road. Because there was no moon out the road was dark, and Sam tried to make sense of his surroundings. But all he could see was the shadows of the trees as the _Ford_ slipped further and further into the countryside.

Sam was about to ask where they were going when Katie turned down a slightly-overgrown dirt path. She drove a few feet in and stopped, smiling at Sam as she shut the engine off. She opened the door and hopped out of the truck, and even with his long legs Sam had a hard time keeping up with her as she hustled through the tall grass.

“Katie?” Sam called as he slowly made his way through the jungle. “Katie?” He heard a woman's laugh just in front of him.

“Come on Sam,” her voice echoed through the trees to him.

Sam noticed the path he was walking on had once been grass. Now, after many years, it was worn down to dirt. He walked down a small hill and stopped as he came to a creek. Katie was standing with her back to him.

He should have announced his presence, feeling like he was a peeping tom. _Yeah…Dean would have a field day with this._

Katie turned her head and smile at him, then turned her attention back to the water. Her hands slid under the hem of her shirt and she lifted it above her head. After tossing the fabric to the dirt she shimmied out of her shorts, stepping out of them as they bunched at her feet. Sam sucked in a breath as he saw her backside. It was tight and firm and surrounded in pink lace. He swallowed the lump in his throat. She took a step into the water and turned her head. She took her finger and motioned to her. _Come here_.

“Katie…I...uh...” Sam nervously reached a hand up and scratched the back of his head. God he wanted to, he really did. To be able to put his hands on that body was all he could think about. But his stupid brain wouldn't shut off. He couldn't do this. No. This was his boss's daughter. Who already had it out for him. This would be the nail on the coffin.

“He's not here Sam.” Katie turned to face him, as though she was reading his mind.The water was already up to her waist. “I know him. He won't be for days. Let's have a little fun.” She took her palms and grazed the top of the water until she flicked a bit of it at him. Cold droplets of water landed on Sam's face. “It’s just a swim Sam, that’s all.” She let herself fall backwards into the water, disappearing from sight for a few moments.

Sam watched as she resurfaced. The moonlight wasn’t there but he could tell that she was slicking her wet hair back from her face as she came up for air. . He wrestled with his demons and tried to talk his way out of this, but he knew deep inside there was nothing that could talk him out of this. He twirled his finger in a circle in the air. _What would Dean do?_ “Turn around.”

Katie laughed but she turned around, placing her hands over her eyes. “That's not fair.”

“Life's not fair.” Sam chuckled as his shirt came off first. As he looked down to unbutton his jeans he was unaware that Katie had silently turned back around. She watched as the jeans slid over his hips and onto the ground. Her breath hitched as he straightened up and faced her.

Her eyes swept to his hard chest. _Is that a tattoo?_ Her eyes had landed on the strange symbol etched just above his left pec muscle. Her eyes swept down his stomach tracing the six pack, and she looked away, suddenly feeling as shy as a twelve-year-old’s first crush. She heard him as he walked into the water and she turned to see him.

The awkwardness had increased tenfold between them. Sam wanted to say something, but he was a loss for words. _Dammit Sam._ _Dean would already be in that water ._ He scolded himself for being such a coward. He was shaken out of his thoughts as Katie let out a scream.

She quickly turned around in the water. Her face was scrunched up in terror as she frantically pushed through the water towards Sam. “Oh my God. Something just touched my leg.” She wrapped her arms around Sam's neck and slid her legs around his waist. Her face was buried in his neck as her body shook with terror.

“Katie,” Sam stood there with his arms outstretched and this woman clinging to him. He turned his towards hers. “I think it was just a stick or something.”

Katie’s head, still in his neck, shook her head back and forth. “No...” Her head shot up. Sam looked into a pair of green eyes wide with fright. “Let's go back to the house. OK?” She slid off of him and quickly walked to the shore,pulling on her clothes along the way back to the truck. By the time she got to she was dressed, not caring that they were already soaked through.  
Sam found her leaning up against the grill of the truck her arms crossed tightly against her chest. Her head snapped up when she heard him step on a twig, and she was in the driver’s seat before he could reach the passenger side. She was jumpy that much Sam could tell.

Not a word was said as the engine roared to life. Sam slowly opened the door of the truck and positioned himself next to her. She took a moment before she started driving. Her hands were on the steering wheel, her head bent down. Sam didn't know if she was crying or praying. After a minute, her head snapped back up and she put the truck in reverse. The drive back to the house was silent as both occupants were in their own world. _Well,_ Sam thought _. At least this part was like how half of Dean’s dates go._

 


	5. Chapter Five

 

Sam couldn't sleep. Try as he might nothing would work after the two of them got back from the incident at the creek. His brain was on overdrive, wondering what it was that Jack had thrown in the back of his truck earlier that evening.

Throwing the covers off and planting bare feet on the wood floor below him he glanced at the clock on the dresser on the wall across from the bed. _Four-fifty two AM_ , he read, _and sighed_. He knew it was going to be a rough morning when the sun came up, but he'd operated on little to no sleep in the past. Why should this be any different?

Sam found the pants and shirt that were still slightly wet from their earlier excursion and pulled them back on. He knew his mind would not rest unless he did some investigating. He checked the drive before he left the barn, and sure enough Jack's truck was still gone. As he headed for the house he prayed that Katie was a heavy sleeper. He glanced up at the second story as he approached the porch and wondered which window was hers.

_***_

_The feeling of cold metal against her skin made her eyes flutter open. She was on some sort of table. She raised her head up to find her arms were stretched above her head. Looking up she found that a black iron shackle locked her wrists in place. She tried to move the rest of her body, but her ankles were also held down by heavy straps._

_She was not wearing what she went to bed in that night. A thin, white dress went to her knees, and she shuddered from the chill in the air. Something cold, almost metallic, touched her one calf and her body jerked in response. Her chest rose up and down as she felt something squeeze her middle and tickle her skin. She closed her eyes tight as the sensation ran its way around her body. A voice shook the room. “Don't fight it Katie. This is your destiny. You are to become one of us.”_

Katie sat up bed and frantically kicked at the sheets that were wrapped around her legs. Her first instinct was to check and make sure she was in her normal pyjamas and thankfully she was. An odd smell was thick in her nose as she tried to get out of the bed. Something wasn't right. That was her first thought as she opened her bedroom door. She smelled coffee and bacon. Maybe her dad had come home early.

She was quiet as her bare feet made their way down the stairs, stopping only when she heard a noise coming from the kitchen. She looked down past the well-worn banister and noticed a broom was leaning up against the door frame. Quietly she slid around the last post at the bottom of the stairs, inching towards the broom waiting for her itching fingers. Grasping the smooth handle with both hands, her knuckles white, she raised it like she was ready to kill a large spider she burst into the kitchen.

A large, muscular back greeted her and slender hands were flipping something in a pan. She could hear the pop and sizzle of the eggs frying as he tended to them. His long hair curled up in the back and laid neatly against his neck.

“What are you doing in my kitchen?” Katie asked, finally able to find her voice.

Sam turned to see Katie standing in the doorway, the bristles of a broom near her narrowed eyes and he had to admit that the fire there drew him to her. He watched her eyes dart from him, to the stove and then to the table. “I'm making breakfast. Can't eat with that.” He pointed at the broom then took the pan to the table, setting it on their old cast-iron trivet that sat in the middle.

“I can see that,” Katie lowered the broom and set it against the fridge. “Where is Miguel?”

Sam shrugged as he pulled back a chair and looked at her. “Don't know. He never showed.” He pointed to the chair across from him. “Sit.”

Katie looked at him and her heart beat hard in her chest, but finally she gave in and walked over to the chair Sam had indicated. As she sat she picked up her fork and gingerly took a bite. She smiled around the fork. “This is really good.”

“Good,” Sam slid out his seat and sat from across her. “My brother is really the cook.”

“For someone who claims to have had a falling out, you talk a lot about him.” Katie sat her fork on the table and picked up the glass of OJ. “Did something happen between you two?” When her glass was half to her lips it began to shake between her hand.

Sam heard a gasp, and when he looked up he found her pushed slightly away from the table. Her head was bent to her chest, her eyes shut tight, trying not to look at what was standing behind him. Her fingers were turning white from holding the table so hard. Finally she got the courage to look back up, her eyes avoiding Sam's. Standing behind Sam was a young woman with dark hair. Her eyes were black and blood came from her lips. Katie watched in horror as a bubble popped, sending liquid splattering across the table.

“Katie?” The chair scraped on the tile floor as he stood up. “Katie?” He knelt down next to her. He could hear a low mewling sound coming from her.

_“Katie. Please help me.”_

“Sammmm..” She sobbed. She clutched her hands over her hears. “No.” She shook her head back and forth trying to clear the voice.  
***

Sam took his hands and shook her gently. “Katie. Wake up. It's just a dream.”

Katie's eyes snapped open and she quickly sat up, colliding her head with Sam's. The two of them fell away from each other, both somewhat stunned. She broke from the shock of the impact and moved her feet against the sheets, trying to get herself up. She let out a small scream as his hand touched her arm and she shrunk back from the touch.

“Sam?” she asked as she realized who the hand belonged to. Her chest heaved up and down as her heart beat hard. Her eyes searched his as she came down from her dream. “Sam.” Slowly she reached out with her hand, stopping at his face as her fingers gently caressed his cheek. She snapped her hand back when she realized he was really there. Then she got mad. She yanked the blanket to her chest and glared at him. “What the hell are you doing in my bedroom?” She was beginning to hate her week off.

Sam pulled his hand off her leg and felt his cheeks begin to redden. “I heard a sound,” Sam stammered out. “I couldn't sleep so I was taking a walk.”

“In the middle of the night?” Katie kept the blanket tight against her chest. She eyed Sam suspiciously. Then she realized something she never did before. She could feel her blood rushing through her veins as a she closed her eyes, a wave of fear flooding through her.

“Katie,” he put his hand on hers again. “Are you OK?”

Katie glanced at his furrowed brow as she pushed her legs from under the covers and bolted from the bed. Before Sam could even stand she was out of the room. When he caught up to her he found her in the living room in front of a bookcase, staring at a picture.

In the picture was a young woman holding a baby in her arms, and Sam instantly knew who this was. He saw the same smile on Katie.

Katie turned from the bookcase to find Sam standing behind her. She was expecting to see the figure standing behind Sam, pleading with her to help her. Katie sighed, relieved that she was not there, so she took the picture and walked over to the couch and slowly sat down. She felt the cushions move under new weight as Sam sat next to her but she was afraid to look at him. Finally she let go of the photograph, letting it drop to her lap as she leaned forward and buried her face in her hands. Sam felt a little awkward as he heard her sobs but he gently placed his hand on her back between her shoulder blades and slowly rubbed up and down.

“Katie, I don't know what to say. I don't know what is going on with you, but I think it would help if you talked about it. I know something about bad dreams.” His hand continued the slow movement on her back.

She lifted her head and looked at him. His eyes seemed to morph into a beautiful shade of blue gray. She never knew how captivating they were until she looked into them. She leaned forwardand placed her mouth near his ear. Her breath tickled his skin and made him shiver. “Thank you Sam.”

A smile lifted up his lip as he pulled back a bit to look into her green eyes. “No need to thank me,” his face inched forward.

Katie could feel his hot minty breath tickle her skin. Their noses touched as she closed her eyes and closed the distance between them. The kiss was soft and tender as his full lips gently brushed against hers. She pulled back a bit and looked into Sam's eyes.

He cupped the back of her neck with one hand and brought her back into him. She slid onto his lap as he caressed the soft skin, kissing her softly. Her hands slid around the back of his neck and played with the hair on the back of his neck, and the feel of her fingernails on his skin caused Sam to shiver.

His hand slid up the bare skin of her leg and moved the hem of her T shirt higher. Her skin was so soft and warm. He heard her sigh as he moved further up her leg. When his large hands moved over her mound he ground his palm against her. She moaned and moved her hips sharply against them, wanting more.

The sound of a car door made Katie slid off of Sam's lap, and quickly she pulled the shirt back down as she ran to the window. She slid back the curtain to the lifted truck parked near the barn. She let the drapes slid as she turned to Sam. “That's Miguel!”

Sam jumped up from the couch, his hands slid between his jeans and adjusted himself. He smiled at Katie. “See ya tonight?”

She put the tip of her thumbnail in her mouth and smiled. “Yeah. Now, out the kitchen door! Hurry!”


	6. Chapter Six

Jack knew his daughter was suspicious, but what she thought about him when he got those calls he wasn’t entirely sure. What he wanted to know was why someone with the last name of Winchester had to appear on his doorstep again. He tried not to increase his speed down the lonely stretch of highway as he thought about the past, but he knew the local cops rarely policed this area so with his famous “lead foot” he pressed harder, watching his dial start to push eighty.  
Jack sat on his front porch, an old bottle of Scotch threatening to slip from his fingers if he so dared to take a breath. The mourners had come and gone several hours earlier and now he sat alone, watching the sun set over the hills of his farm. Those hills seemed to glow in the red-orange that came from the light that was just about to disappear below the horizon.  
Jack couldn’t bear it anymore. Twilight was Grace’s favorite time of day. That was the only reason he was out here now, still dressed in black from her funeral. When it got hot in Oklahoma, it got hot. There were no grey areas like there were in the North when it got a little cooler in the shade. That’s how her funeral had been that morning. His mother stood behind him holding her granddaughter close as the minister spoke the eulogy he had written. He hadn’t been able to find the strength to move his tongue then either.

Grace was known for her gentle nature, and for that she had many friends in the town, most of which attended her wake, brought them food, and offered to help him care for Katie as he tried to run the farm at the same time. He wasn’t entirely sure who most of these people were. Grace had always been the more-talkative one, and Jack was just along for the ride. But he didn’t mind. He preferred it that way. The men in his family had a history of never having much to say. And Grace’s…well…grace…was what drew him to her.

Now as the sun sank below the hills and the stars began their full descent on the earth a pair of headlights began bobbing down the long drive towards his house. His fingers found their strength and they tightened their grip on the bottle, ensuring a safe journey from his hand to the wood planking beneath his feet. The rumble of the old car grew louder as it got closer, and Jack didn’t need anyone to tell him what it was. It was an Impala, one thing he had never been able to own in his life. As he listened to the soft nursery music his mother-in-law was playing for his daughter upstairs that was wafting down to him from the second floor the Impala hummed to a stop next to his truck.

A gentleman, looking as worn and exhausted as he felt, stepped out, slamming the squeaky door shut. His face sported an unkempt beard that was framed by dark, bushy eyebrows and a full head of hair. He looked to be around the same age, but Jack had never been a good judge of such things.

“Jack Chapman?” he asked as he stopped several feet away from his steps.

Jack could tell that the man knew boundaries, and he respected that. His tongue found the English language again. “Who’s asking?”

“I’m sorry for coming on such a day. My name is John Winchester.”  
That initial meeting drew him into a life he never thought he would live. Even though he was a farmer he never enjoyed slaughtering. But in his grief then, and through the convincing words of a man named Winchester, he joined him in a suicidal mission that claimed the life of one in their party.  
The proof had been laid out on the table in front of him. Newspaper clippings, printouts of strange research topics, and there was this man in his kitchen trying to convince him that demons had played a part in his wife’s death. He was beginning to wonder why he even offered this tired man named Winchester a hot meal to begin with. Because it’s social protocol, he thought. That’s what his mother had taught him. “An invitation of hospitality should always be on your lips,” she had said, very matter-of-factly. It was engrained into him at a young age. You offer a person who’s upset a warm beverage. You bring them iced tea or lemonade before they know they want something cool and refreshing.

Now John Winchester was in his kitchen that still smelled of smoke from a fire that had wrecked half of his second floor the week before, pacing back and forth as he waited for Jack’s reply. Through his vigil earlier that day he had in fact vowed to investigate the odd circumstances of his wife’s death, but he didn’t know if this was the way to go. “Is this a fool-proof plan?” he asked, already aware of what the answer would be.

“I followed the signs. Something’s happening. Others have noticed it too. Something is out there coming after our children and I have to know what it is. Katie is six months today, correct?”

“Yes…”Jack noticed that John skirted around his original question by asking one himself.  
“So was my son when Mary died. I confirmed all the patterns with William…he’s joining me on this one but we need a third pair of hands. Someone who may know something else that we’re missing.”  
Jack had his own insider friends now, one of whom he was heading to meet on a lead of a case several of them had been following the past few weeks. Girls were disappearing, girls around his own daughter’s age. That’s what convinced him to start taking the calls again. He didn’t want to lose her like he lost Grace.

Tom had called him about a woman who had a diary, a diary that could answer many of the questions they’d been asking for years. It was only recently that the rumors started. Some unknown hunter had gotten a hold of it and was starting to ask questions. Tom had caught wind of it when he got a call from someone named Bobby. What was his last name again? Jack asked himself. Then it popped in his head. Singer. Bobby Singer.

Jack was trying to figure out why the name sounded so familiar when his cell phone began beeping from the front pocket of his jacket. Jack slowed down to a crawl, a dismal fifty miles per hour. But he didn’t trust himself to talk and drive and think all at the same time. He didn’t have to stare at the caller id long to know who it was before he pressed the green “talk” button. “Hey Tom, what do you have for me?”

“You’re not going to like it.”

“Please. There’s hardly anything left in this world that can shock me into silence.”

“Winchester.”

Jack didn’t care that he might be destroying his brakes as he slammed on them, causing him to fly forward in his seat and thick smoke from the impact on the pavement to billow out behind him. If there was anyone on the highway he didn’t care. “Say that again?”

“Winchester. There’s one moving your way with the journal.”

“Are you positive? Which Winchester are you talking about?”

“His name is Dean. Dean Winchester.”

Jack breathed a sigh of relief. So it wasn’t the one that was currently driving around his farm with his daughter. But who knew if the two were even related…

“How do you know this?”

“I got a call from Bobby, asking to confirm a disappearance in Oklahoma. As far as I know he doesn’t know you’re involved as well.”

“Dammit Tom, why do you have to be so truthful all the time?”

“Hey, I don’t work just for you.”

“Yeah I’m beginning to figure that out. See you in a few hours.” With a huff he hung up on Tom and restarted his engine. He had to get his hands on that book. Things were about to get messy…


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mature Content

 

Sam had a hard time concentrating on anything that morning. When he should have been focusing on helping Miguel feed the animals his mind kept sliding to Katie. His mind drifted to their first kiss as he shoveled hay into the trough just inside the gate of one of the stalls in the barn. He was so distracted that when he brought his shovel to the ground he jabbed it into his foot rather than the floor boards, sending a sharp pain up to his knee.  
Sam hadn’t wanted to snoop last night, but he had to find out what was going on with this family. He knew from earlier that Katie’s mom had died when she was just a baby, but his hunter’s instinct told him that there was more to it. When he found a picture of his dad with a younger version of Jack, Sam was even more confused. That’s when he found the locked door down a small hallway near the back of the house, raising even more questions. He was about to start picking the lock when he heard Katie’s screams from her dream.

Sam leaned the pitchfork up against the wall of the barn and wiped the sweat from his brow with the hem of his shirt. He slid his damp tee over his head and tossed it to the ground. With a sigh he picked the tool back up and headed for the next stall. What he wanted was an ice cold beer.

As he headed for his last stall near the doors he heard a loud whinny from outside. He leaned the pitchfork back up on the large doorframe and headed outside where he found Miguel struggling with Samson. The small Mexican man had the long reins in his hand as Samson was rearing up on him, the horse’s large hooves inches from Miguel’s head. Miguel stuck his boots in the dirt and tried with all his might to pull the horse along the path. _“¡Hijo del diablo! Caballo Stupid!”_ Miguel turned his head when he heard a chuckle to see Sam leaning against the tall wooden fence that lined the path.

Miguel’s eyes traveled to the shirtless man and frowned at the tattoo on his chest. “Winchester? If you think you can do any better, devil horse is all yours.” Miguel threw the reins on the ground and stepped closer to the barn, a hand gesturing towards Sam to try his luck.

Sam swallowed the large lump that had formed in his throat when Miguel threw the reins towards him and he looked at the huge horse. Samson turned his own head, his eyes meeting Sam’s. He tossed his head and took a step towards Sam, and Sam took two steps back as the horse walked up to him. When the horse approached Sam he nudged him in the chest. Sam slowly put his hand on the velvet soft nose and smiled as the horse nickered. Sam laughed as he reached up and scratched the top of the huge head and moved the mane to the side. “You aren’t so bad.” Samson moved his head towards Sam’s jeans, tugging at the pockets.

“Wow,” a female voice said from behind. “You really have a way with him.”

Katie had been in the house trying to get some things done but all she could think about was Sam. Sam Winchester and those amazing lips of his. Thinking about what else she could do with them had kept her up most of the night . When it slid into the hottest part of the afternoon she decided to give in and take him something cold to drink. She’d gathered up a tray, figuring she should bring Miguel something too, and had been carrying it towards the barn when she stopped dead in her ascent to the barn.

There stood Sam with, much to her delight, no shirt on, and petting her horse Samson. Her horse was bonded to her and never went to anyone else. But there was Sam, petting him and talking to him. When he turned to face her, Katie, still holding her tray, took the time to admire his shirtless form. She watched as beads of sweat rolled down his massive chest, traveling down his stomach and disappeared into the waist band of his jeans. A delicious shiver ran through her body as her eyes slid back up his body to find him looking at her, and she knew the flush on her face was not from embarrassment.

“Why’s that?” he responded.

“He doesn’t usually like strangers,” Katie positioned a hand under the tray to steady it as she handed him one of the bottles of beer. “I brought you this.

Sam looked at her for a minute, shock on her face. It was as if she had read his very mind. Not only did he think about an ice cold beer, but a specific brand – a brand only he and his brother drank. “Wow, thanks.” He walked back into the barn to retrieve his shirt and was sliding it back on as he went back out to rejoin Katie.

_Dammit_ , Katie sighed. She slid the bottle into his massive hands and stared at them. The desire to have them over her body was more than she could take. “You’re welcome.”

Sam and Katie walked over to a bale of hay. Katie sat first as he uncapped the bottle, joining her when that part of the job was done. As Sam slowly drank his beer he took the time to admire Katie. Her long hair was casually pulled up into a pony tail, a few blond tendrils framing her oval-shaped face. Her blue eyes sparked as she set her beer down and walked over to Samson. Her long legs were fashioned into a pair of brown cowboy boots, her thighs clothed in a pair of short cut-offs. _This woman is beautiful…_ “So what on earth possessed you to get something so huge?” he asked.

Katie turned from Samson as she patted his huge neck. “He was a gift from my Dad. He did some work for this man who couldn’t pay him. Jack knew how much I loved horses and always wanted one of my own. This guy had a mare that just had a colt. He’s half Percheron and half Quarter Horse. I’ve had him ever since.”

“Hmm,” Sam took a sip thoughtfully.

“What?”

Sam shook his head and slid her a smile, “Nothing.”

Katie took Samson’s reins in her hands and turned back to Sam. “Would you like to come over and have dinner with me? Jack’s not back yet and I hate eating by myself.”

Sam hopped off the hay bale and joined her. “I would love to.”

“I’ll see you at seven,” she winked at him and led Samson back to the barn.

Sam let out a huge sigh as he downed the last of his beer. He knew that dinner with this woman was going to lead to something else and he was torn at what to do. He knew his time here on the farm was going to be short. He wasn’t the kind that stayed in one place for every long. Something like a Winchester curse – you don’t get close to anyone and you don’t make roots. As Sam retrieved his pitch fork he knew he was going to break that rule.

***

Katie tried to find something to watch on television but her mind was too distracted. She would watch for five minutes, get up, pace, then sit back down. Five till seven she heard boots on the porch. She quickly stood up, throwing the remote on the couch. She ran to the door just as she heard a light knock. Katie took a second to smooth her hair down before she opened the door. She smiled as she saw him standing behind the screen. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

Katie opened the screen door and let Sam in. She shut it as he stepped further in, locking it behind her. “So, I have beer, wine, Scotch…pick your poison.’ She headed for the kitchen, Sam right behind her.

“Beer’s fine.”

Katie noticed a woman standing behind Sam, her straight black hair grazing her shoulders.  
“ _Help me Katie, please…hurry…”_ She opened the fridge, trying to distract herself.

The living, dining and kitchen were all open to each other, so Sam walked through them, looking at their pictures. Several were of Katie when she was little with a blond-haired woman and a man with dark hair. They were all smiling in each and every picture. Sam smiled back at them but with a longing so strong in his heart it made it ache. _What would his life be like if his mom was still alive? If their dad had never gone into hunting?_

He noticed Katie had said something, so he turned from the pictures, “I’m sorry?”

She held up a container of pasta, “I have this fantastic pasta that I make. Fresh mozzarella…red peppers…sound good?”

Sam smiled. “It sounds wonderful but you don’t have to on my account.”

She grabbed a huge pot from under the stove and turned on the hot water tap. She placed her hand under the water, waiting for it to get hot. “It’s no trouble really. My Nana…she was a great cook. She taught me everything about cooking but my passion is baking.” She turned off the water and walked the pot over to the stove, turning on the heat. She grabbed her beer and handed Sam his. “Let’s go to the living room.”

She led him to the couch and they sat down, Sam sipped his beer. She noticed the young woman walk into the living room and sit on the recliner across from them, staring. She turned to see Sam looking in the direction of the chair. “Sam? What is it?”

Sam shook his head. “I don’t know…” he turned his head to look at her, their faces only a few inches apart. “Katie, there’s something I need to be honest about…to help you understand why my brother and I are estranged,” he looked down at his bottle and began to pick at the label. “My mom was killed when I was just a baby. Dean was four.”

“Killed?!” Katie sighed. “Oh Sam…” she gently placed her hand on his forearm. She looked down as she felt the tingles in her fingertips.

“After that Dad…made it his mission to track down what killed her.”

Katie sat up, “Wait, don’t you mean _who_?”

Sam shook his head and leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “No. What we found out was that a demon killed her.” He turned his head when he heard her gasp, “Katie? What is it?”

She got up from the couch, walked over to the mantle and took down a picture. As she walked back over to him she put the frame into his free hand. It was the picture of the same man and woman he had seen all over the house. “Is this your mom?” he asked.

Katie nodded as she quickly sat down, feeling her strength leave. She never told anyone what happened the night of the car accident, but she had a feeling that Sam would want to know. “My dad always told me that my mom died in a car accident, but I don’t know. Things just don’t add up.” she looked back to Sam. “I have these dreams that are so real…of my mom and of…” her voice trailed off as she lifted her head. The girl had left.

“Of who, Katie?” Sam asked. He reached over and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

Katie sighed and wiped her eyes. “It’s my friend. She lives in Colorado. About a week ago I got a call from her aunt. Lexi just…disappeared. And my other dreams are of her. She’s pleading to me to help her…” she broke off, looking down at her hands. “There’s something you need to know about me, Sam.” She lifted her head to look him in the eyes, her own flitting down to his lips, then back to his eyes. “I’m very complicated.”

“Who isn’t?” he leaned forward and placed his lips on hers for a brief second. He pulled back to see that her eyes were closed, her lashes a dark fan against her creamy skin. He licked lips and kissed her again, this time with purpose.

Her hands snaked to the back of his neck, playing with the curls on the back of his neck. His hands caressed her arm, moving up to her shoulder, where they slid around back. While still kissing him, she pushed him further back on the couch. She swung her leg over his, sitting atop his lap. His hands skated under the top she was wearing, touching her soft skin.

“Katie..” He closed his eyes, his head back on the couch as she kissed his neck, nipping his Adam apple. Her tongue ran over the stubble that made up his jaw, deep into his mouth. He met her hungrily, his hands kneading her back. He pulled back, his breath coming in gasps. “I..I’m not going to be around here very long.” He kissed her lips, her jaw, her ear, taking the lobe into her mouth, his teeth nipping the skin.

She moved her hips against his growing bulge, eliciting a moan from both of them. She pulled away from his lips, tracing the fullness of them with her finger. “It’s Ok Sam...” She kissed his mouth, tugging onto his bottom lip.  
He sat up, wrapping her legs around his waist as he lay her on the couch, kissing her neck. Her legs locked around his waist as he ran a hand under her shirt, skating over her tight stomach, to the large swell of her breasts. His mouth was half open against hers as he touched her breast, breathing into her mouth. Their tongues met, as he ran a thumb over her nipple, making her arch up under him. She sighed and ran her fingers along his back, scratching the skin.

“We shouldn't be doing this Sam.” She moaned as he kissed the skin on her stomach, her hands playing with his long hair.

He took his finger, slid her bottoms off and tossed them onto the floor. He moved her body, grinding his hip into her hers. He thrust her mouth open with his tongue as he slowly moved his hips against the V in her legs, rubbing against her heated mound. He groaned as her nails dug harder into her back.

Sam broke the kiss and sat up as she got up off the couch. She lifted her shirt over her head, looking at Sam as she tossed it on the ground. Sam feasted his eyes up on her. Her breasts were large, straining against the pink fabric of her bra. Her stomach was flat, her panties sitting low on her hips. She smiled at him as she reached around her back and unhooked her bra. She placed her hands on them as the bar slid to the floor. Sam grabbed her around the waist as he began to feast on her body.

His tongue was making her shiver as he worked his way to her breasts, spending his time on both of them. He kissed his way down to her stomach, falling to his knees as he kissed her lower stomach. She was running her fingers into his hair, tugging, guiding him. He slid the panties off her hips and sent her soaring into space.

Sam picked her up, sliding her legs around his waist, leading her to where the bedroom was located. He laid her on the comforter as he took off his shirt, than his jeans. Katie watched as he slid off his boxers, his manhood jutting out in front of him. As he crawled to her, she grabbed hold of the long, thick shaft, slowly milking him.

Sam closed his eyes as she ran her hands up and down his shaft, getting him hard. While still stroking him, she moved her hand over to her drawer and fumbled around till she found what she was looking for. She ripped open the package with her teeth, taking out the rubber. She slid it over his shaft as she played with him, their lips in a fiery kiss.

She spread her legs open for him as he slid along her body, his tip sliding into her. She arched her back as he thrust his full length into her. Katie groaned at the burn as her body accepted him. Sam never pushed, he just stayed where he was, kissing her, stoking her, making her more turned on.  
With a moan from both of them, Sam claimed her as he slid deep inside of her. Her legs slid around his waist, her hands around his upper back as he rocked into her. Her hips moved upward, creating a friction that had her coming with a loud groan just five minutes later. Sam raised up on his hands, his hips surging forward, his mouth on hers as he groaned.

He laid his head in between the pillow and her neck, his breath warm on her skin. Her nails were moving up and down his back, their breathing ragged. A minute passed and Sam rolled over onto his back and put his arm around her as she snuggled into his chest. He laid there, listening to her breathing. His mind was a whirl wind as he tried to come to terms with what Katie had told him. Sam knew her mother was killed just like his was. If that was the case, than he needed some help.

  
He turned his head to see his phone lying on the nightstand. He reluctantly reached for it and flipped it open, scrolling to the number. His thumb hovered over the _talk_ button before he finally pressed it and placed it back to his ear. He slid the covers off of him and he quietly slipped into the hall just as he heard the click.

 


	8. Chapter Eight

 

For some reason Dean always liked the smell of old dives. Not the motel kind of dive. If he would ever be able to he would travel in style. He and Sam had stayed in some pretty risqué ones in the past, much to his brother’s dismay. But in their line of work there was no way around it. No. The kind of dive Dean liked was the bars. The kind of place that had the heavy cigar smoke that filled the room, old bars that had seen unmentionable things, and, more than anything else, a bosomy bar maid he could flirt with.  
  
The last hope had already been dashed upon entering, but Dean had a feeling that _Mo’s_ was the only establishment in a fifty mile radius, and he needed a break. He’d stopped in a little town just above the panhandle of Oklahoma and he was already beginning to see large, rolling plains of livestock, corn and hay. Dean had officially entered farm country.  
  
The bar maid, or in this case, bar _man_ , looked to be about in his late forties, and with some of his mannerisms Dean was suddenly hit with a wave of nostalgia as the man reminded him of his dad. Dean shook the thought out of his head. He had to stay focused. Pulling down and adjusting his dark leather jacket he headed for the bar, picking the one on the end furthest from the door.  
  
“What’ll it be, son?” the man asked, peering at Dean from above his blue-rimmed glasses.  
  
“Scotch, please.”  
  
“Comin’ right up,” and the man went to work as Dean pulled the journal out from an inner pocket of his jacket.  
  
The binding of the book was old, worn from several years of use and threatened to fall apart at any moment. Dean remembered his promise to return it to Janice as he ran his finger along the spine. The bartender placed his drink in front of him. “What’s that?” the man asked.  
 _  
Oh, just a journal about possible crazy girl habits, mixed with something supernatural_. “It was my mother’s,” he lied, trying to make himself look as sad as he could be to get the guy to leave him alone. He didn’t feel like talking today. The man responded the way Dean wanted him to, “My apologies.” And he went to take care of a new customer who’d just sat at the opposite end of the bar.  
  
To obtain more leads Dean had decided to head to Texas to interview the girl’s family down there. He doubted that they had anything as juicy as Janice’s journal. Normally he’d pass this kind of thing off to Sam. He wasn’t really keen on reading. Unless it was the comic section of the newspaper…or porn…or some more interesting read than a lady’s diary about her niece. He would have preferred the girl’s own diary. This time it was different. Each line he read made him want to read more, his Scotch going untouched, minus the one initial swig, with a ring of condensation gathering at the bottom of the glass.  
  
Jack hadn’t wanted anything when he sat down at the bar, and he knew that made the man behind the counter suspicious. Within minutes of sitting down he changed his mind, giving in and ordering a _Budweiser_. He would normally prefer something stronger, but he needed to stay alert on this trip. As the tab was pulled and placed in front of him he thanked the man, sliding a couple of bills into the tip jar in front of him.  
  
Jack took a sip and replaced the can back on the table, stared at the silver can as he twirled it in his hands. He’d had no luck finding the Winchester kid yet even after he had checked every bar and dive between here and home. Suddenly a movement in the corner of his left eye caught his attention, and slowly he reached into his back pant pocket.  
  
As Jack withdrew his phone he heard an audible sign from behind the counter and he knew what the bartender must have been thinking. Jack gave him a smile and saluted with his cell, relaxing the gentleman who resumed wiping down his clean shot glasses.  
  
He scrolled down his caller id list and found Tom’s name. It rang several times before Tom picked up, all the while Jack watched the young man at the end of the otherwise-empty bar. He looked like some kind of thug…but a thug who read books? It wasn’t adding up.  
  
“ _Yeah, what?_ ”  
  
“Hello to you too.”  
  
“ _Sorry. You caught me in the middle of some research. You know how I hate stopping._ ”  
  
“I’ll be quick. What’s the description of that kid again?”  
  
“ _About six feet tall, stocky but built. Dark brown hair._ ”  
  
“Thanks Tom. I’ll get back to you.”  
  
“ _Hey did you – ”_  
  
Jack hung up the phone. Now he was completely focused on the younger man, not caring if the boy noticed him staring.  
  
The atmosphere in the bar had changed. It was the middle of the day, after all. When most people were at work. But Dean paused at the second page, it’s corner curling away from his outstretched thumb. He glanced up to the bartender and was surprised to find him not there, but was greeted with a set of doors swinging shut to a back kitchen instead. _That’s not good…_ Dean thought, his instincts kicking in.

Dean glanced to his right, feeling the man’s eyes on him. Very few things of this world made him shudder, but that man…with his tattered brown cowboy hat and boot cut jeans…certainly did. He took a swig of his Scotch with one hand as he pocketed the journal with the other, setting the now-empty glass back down as he turned to face him. “Got a problem?”  
  
“What makes you say that?”  
  
“You’re staring at me with those creepy-ass eyes of yours.”  
  
“You’re not the first person to describe me like that,” Jack slid off his stool, his boots clunking to the floor. He leaned on the bar with one elbow and nodded as a young couple scurried past them, apparently aware of the odd electricity between the two men and wanted no part of it.  
  
Dean joined the man on the floor, who was now eyeballing the side of his jacket where he had slid the journal.  
  
“You have something I want. That is, if your name is Winchester.”  
  
“Who wants to know?”  
  
“Jack. My name is Jack Chapman.”  
  
“Jack Chapman you say? Hmmm…never heard of you.”  
  
“Really? I would’ve thought your daddy would’ve told you about me at some point.”  
  
“With that eye squint of yours I highly doubt it.”  
  
“Are we going to do this the hard way or the easy way?”  
  
“Not sure what you mean by either.  
  
Jack was beginning to hate this kid. A rock beat started emanating from the Wincheter boy’s pocket. “Kansas? Really?”  
  
“Hey, don’t dis the Kansas. Mind if I?” he indicated the phone.  
  
Jack inclined his head. He was at least gentleman enough to allow the kid answer.

* * *

“Talk to me.”  
“ _Dean? It’s Bobby. I have to warn you about something._ ”  
“Is it about this tall, tan man with boot cut jeans and a cowboy hat?”  
There was a pause. “ _Yeah…”_  
“Thanks for the warning. A little too late.”  
“ _Dammit. Dean, get out of there boy. He’s a pompous dick who’ll –_ ”

* * *

Bobby Singer stared at the cell in his hand, the “end call” button blinking angrily at him, “Dick…”

* * *

“So,” Dean started as he pocketed his cell. “Pompous dick, are you?”  
  
“That’s what your little friend told you? Glad to know I have such a reputation,” and as soon as Jack moved the younger version of John Winchester moved with lightning speed, diving behind the vacated bar.  
  
“I knew your daddy, kid. I know what moves he taught you!” he yelled as he whipped out his handgun, cocking it as he went behind one of the large posts that held up the ceiling. Three of them ran in a straight line down the center of the establishment. Jack had a feeling that all of them were going to be riddled with holes before their tango was done.  
  
“Come on, dude. Can’t we all be friends?” Dean called from behind the bar, his own finger on his trigger, ready to go. “I’m sure an old lovable bear like yourself has information I could use.”  
  
Jack laughed. “Like I’d ever work with a Winchester again.”  
  
“Damn, what did my dad do to make you so angry? Did he steal _your_ girlfriend’s journal?” Dean poked his head around the side of the bar. _Bad idea,_ Dean thought. He had to tuck and roll, his free hand finding a table and he pushed it to the ground; it clanged to the ground, bouncing slightly from the impact; he used it as a shield. The next shot though that rang out grazed the top of it, and he stared wide eyed at the hole whatever Jack was using had blasted near his head. “Must’ve been! If it makes you feel any better I never read it.”  
  
“Shut up kid and just slide it towards me.”  
  
“Ha! If you claim to know my dad then you know Winchesters don’t give up that easily.”  
  
Kansas rang out across the quiet bar, Dean’s hand went instinctively to his pocket. _Damn…where is it?_ Dean glanced back towards the bar. There it was, vibrating and ringing away on the floor from where he had previously been. “ _Carry on my wayward son. There’ll be peace when you…_ ”  
  
“I really hate that song,” Jack rolled his eyes.  
  
Dean popped out from behind the table, “You don’t see me mocking your boot-cut jeans.” Dean side-glanced at the phone, it’s screen, luckily, facing up. There, in bold, black letters, an unexpected name stared back at him. _Sam_. There was no way he was going to miss this call, especially not after a month of trying to track him down.  
  
The two of them looked from each other to the phone then back to each other, and Dean lunged, tucking and rolling back behind the bar as Jack fired a few more warning shots. Dean snagged the phone as he went, answering as he returned fire. “Sam?! Where the hell are you?!”  
  
Jack froze. Sam. Sam _Winchester_. For God’s sake he _knew_ that there was something fishy about that boy. And Katie…Katie. Katie who was there with one of _them_. “You tell your brother that I’m comin’ back. And when I get there there’ll be more Winchester blood spilt rather than just William Harvelle’s!” And with that he made a beeline for the door, leaving Dean standing behind the bar in stunned silence.


	9. Chapter Nine

 

Katie let out a sigh as she arched her back off the mattress and felt her spine pop. She rolled over onto her back and moved her hand across the cool sheets, hoping to feel a warm body next to her. She opened one eye and turned her head to see the right side empty.

She felt a burning sensation on her arm and she absent-mindedly scratched the skin as she threw the covers off of her and her feet hit the cold floor. She was a little confused at how cold the room was as she opened the bedroom door. Sluggishly she moved to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

Her hands smoothed t the crinkled, worn wallpaper until she felt the metal of the light switch and she squinted as the harsh glare of the fluorescent lighting flicked on as she shuffled to the sink. She turned on the faucet and splashed the cold water onto her face. _Why am I so hot all of a sudden?_ She ran a small towel over her face, and was shocked to hear almost a sizzle coming from it. She lifted her head and when she did, a small gasp escaped her lips. Her coloring was pale. Paler than the wisps of ghosts that haunted her dreams. Her eyes were bloodshot the area underneath her bottoms lashes was pink. A shaky hand reached up to her face where she felt the boiling skin. She let out a scream as she watched her eyes slid from ocean blue to the deepest black she had ever seen.

 _Katie!_ A deep voice called out to her. She closed her eyes against the pounding and felt her knees buckle. _Katie!_ Her eyes rolled up into the back of her head as her body slumped to the floor.

**

Sam pulled the phone to his ear as he heard the muffled sounds coming from the other end of his phone. “Dean?”  
“ _Sam? Where the hell are you?”_

Sam heard a noise that came from the bedroom and turned to the hallway. “Dean?” He stuck a finger into his left ear. “I can hardly hear you? Is that gunfire?” Sam paused as he heard the scuffling coming from the other end.

“ _Listen, Sam. This crazy-ass_ _Jack_ _dude's coming after the Winchesters. Seems like something personal with dad?”_ Dean’s voice sounded huffy as Sam listened.

“Jack? Was his last name Chapman?”

From the other end of the line, Dean stood up from the floor. He raked the glass off his leather jacket and moved across the floor. Several patrons, that had dived under the tables for cover, slowly poked up their heads.

Sam could hear Jack shouting from Dean’s end of the phone, and he cringed at the only word he could make out – _blood_.

Dean shoved open the bar door just as he heard the revving of an engine. He turned on his heels in time to see an old blue truck speed out of the driveway and he ran to his car, swinging wide the door of the _Impala_ as he climbed inside. “Sam, he's pissed off about something. He was all up in arms about this diary I have. I'm coming to you, where are you?”

**

Sam jumped at a loud scream that came from the bathroom. “I gotta go Dean.” He ended the call and quickly approached the door. He took his hand and pounded on the wood. “Katie!” He heard a whimper so he pounded again. “Katie!” He felt his voice going gruff as he yelled her name. Sam reached down to turn the door knob but as he juggled the knob he found it locked. “Katie!” He took a step back and braced his hands on both sides of the door jamb. He raised up his foot and kicked at the wood. Five kicks later, he heard the splinter of wood as the door popped open.

He rushed inside the bathroom to see Katie lying on the floor. Blood was coming from her nose and collected on the ground. He slid to his knees as he scooped her up in his arms. He took the side of her cheeks as he gently shook her. He waited. Waited for her to open her eyes, take a breath or even struggle. She was limp and not responding.

Sam had to quickly figure out what was wrong with her because he had one angry father bearing down on him.

**

Dean Winchester sighed heavily as his eyes swept the road, his head lights barley showing the road. He was in the middle of nowhere and it was very dark. With the squeak of the hinges, he opened the door, grabbing the map from the glove box and walked to the back of his car.

He had the small flashlight in his mouth as he spread the map out on the trunk of his _“Baby”_ ,  
He traced the main road with his finger, not only to confirm that Haven was only ten miles away but to find a quicker route. l. There. He noticed a small road that split off from the main and it was like a beacon to him. Being a hunter, Dean learned quickly that you took the path less traveled.

Dean folded up the map and sat in the driver's seat and started the engine, taking a minute to smile as the vibrations ran through the car. The black inkiness of the road stretched out for miles, but his trusty car quickly ate up those miles. As he sped down the main road heading for the short cut both windows were down and the music was blaring from the stereo. A little Black Sabbath never hurt anyone, except maybe for Sam. His brother always gave Dean a hard time about his choice in music.  
“ _There is other music besides this_ _Seventies_ _crap, Dean_ ,” Sam had once said.

But Dean just smiled and said, _“But not good music_.”

As the road flew under his tires he sighed and he leaned over, cranking up the music in the hopes of drowning out his thoughts. A few hours later, the _Impala_ rumbled into the outskirts of _Haven._ Dean realized there wasn't much to this town as he rolled slowly down the main strip . A small diner, a drug store, a post office and a police station were pretty much the only buildings, though he could tell, even in the dark, that they were well kept. As he drove through to the end of town he noticed neon lights in the distance. This was his destination.

Dean parked the car next to a few pick-up trucks andfelt confident, with his powers of persuasion, that he would get some answers in this dump. This was the type of town where everyone knew your own business. Dean briefly felt a sense of longing as he opened the door to the bar.

If there was a record player or a juke box around, the only noise you would have heard was the needle scratching. When Dean walked into the bar everyone turned to look at him, and he raised his eyebrows at them in greeting as they watched him awkwardly slide into a barstool.

“Sorry hon, kinda busy tonight. What can I get ya?”, a hoarse female voice grabbed his attention.

Dean turned to face the voice from behind him and instantly smiled. The waitress was a tall brunette with piercing green eyes, small curvy waist and legs that went on for days. She was a little older than him, but that didn't matter to him. Dean slid his eyes up and down her body. “Heya. I was hoping you could help me out.”

She winked at him as she sat the tray on the counter. “Now, what can I do for such a handsome fellow?” She tossed her chestnut hair over her shoulder and smiled at Dean.

“I was wondering if you knew where Jack Chapman lived?”

Dean noticed her smile slipped just for a moment. She must have realized what she was doing because she quickly pasted it back on. “Depends on who is asking. Jack doesn't invite people to his farm.” She placed a hand on her hip. “But I'm friends with the family. .” She leaned in and placed her mouth near his ear. “It will have to cost you.”

Dean closed his eyes and muttered out a “ _Son of a Bitch.”_ He reached into his jacket and slid out a small black billfold, flipping it open. “Sorry, I'm on duty. Agent Perry, FBI.”

She frowned, not pleased with the ID. “Is he in some kind of trouble?”

“That's confidential. So, how about telling me where he lives,” he couldn’t help but tease her a little by staring into her eyes as he raised his brow.

The young woman smiled . “How about I come with you? The ranch is kinda out in the boonies. I know my way there.” She smiled and extended her hand. “I'm Brandy.”

**

Jack slammed the truck into park and his feet touched the ground before the vehicle came to a skidding stop. He reached into the tailgate of the _Ford_ and lifted out a huge duffle bag. He threw it onto the ground as he began to unzip it. With a hiss the bag opened and Jack reached in and took out a shot gun.

“Sam Winchester!” Jack's voice bellowed through the night air. He heard a whinny come from the stall as Samson voiced his annoyance. Ignoring the horse Jack swung the rifle around when he heard the squeak of the screen door. He was shocked to see Sam stepping onto the porch. _That Winchester punk was in my house._ Jack cocked the gun and pointed it to Sam. “You have a lot of explaining to do. Why the hell are you here? Huh?”

Sam raised his hand in the air as he slowly walked to the edge of the porch. “Listen, I know you ran into my brother. Whatever beef you have with our dad…”

“You are just like him.” Jack gritted his teeth. “You're careless and hot headed. And you don't give a damn about who gets in the way, right?”

“Trust me Jack,” Sam pleaded. “I'm nothing like my father. That is the whole reason why I'm here.”

“I will never trust another Winchester in my life. Got it? And I will not have one of the near my daughter.” Jack spat the last part out. The very thought of a Winchester laying a hand on his daughter was enough for him to pull the trigger.

Sam lowered his hand an inch and quickly put them back up as Jack inched towards him. “I know what is going on with Katie. You know about the dreams, don't you?”

“I don't know what the hell you're talking about,” Jack breathed, not wanting to believe anything the kid said. If there was anything going on with his daughter he’d know about it. Jack turned his head towards the drive as he heard the roar of an engine. Headlights beamed around a curve in the road, quickly approaching the house. Jack turned back to Sam. “Expecting company?”

 


	10. Chapter Ten

Dean watched as a small dot of a truck rounded the bend into the farm before he even reached the start of the driveway. Brandy sat in the seat next to him, apparently not afraid of the speed at which he was driving. In fact she seemed to enjoy it, her arm leaning casually out the open window with her chestnut-brown locks flowing behind her. _Where Sam’s abnormally long hair usually was_ …Dean thought, missing his brother.  
  
But he had to concentrate on the task at hand. With any luck Dean could punch his own brother before Jack Chapman got to him first. Sammy could take care of himself. Dean knew that. But with what Dean had seen in Jack’s eyes back at that dive…Dean shuddered.  
“Problem?” a soft, sultry voice asked beside him.  
  
He glanced over at Brandy who’d turned her body back into the car and the other arm that was now leaning against the back of the seat, her hand cradling her head as she stared at him. “Nah, no problem. Thanks.”  
  
“Good. Because when you deal with Jack…let’s just say I feel sorry for his daughter.”  
Dean didn’t quite know what Brandy meant by that, and he began to wonder how old the daughter was. As the _Impala_ raced by the white picket fence that _whooshed_ by, two dots appeared in the distance in front of a house. One stood taller than the other man, his figure growing in size and brightness as the _Impala’s_ headlights bore down on the house. _Sam_.  
Dean ignored Brandy. He never thought he’d be one to ignore a girl, especially one that looked like her. But there was something about her that was starting to rub him the wrong way. He just couldn’t quite put his finger on it as his lead foot threatened to break the gas pedal off. By the time Dean reached the wide gravel area that connected the barn to the house he turn the wheel hard to the right. As the _Impala_ swung left a large dust cloud billowed out behind him and he didn’t care that he was possibly destroying the breaks. “You, stay in the car,” he barked, because that’s when he saw the shotgun pointed at Sam, his brother’s hands up in a stance that told him that he actually hadn’t been doing anything wrong.  
  
“Back off from my brother!” he belted as he flew from the seat, readying his pistol as he went, pointing it directly at the back of Jack’s head. Dean stared the man’s hat down, since he couldn’t make eye contact with him at the moment. Normally Dean would jump at the chance to wear something rodeo. But this guy was really beginning to turn him off of the whole Western fantasy he grew up loving.  
  
“Come now son,”  
  
“Don’t you _son_ me you, bastard. The only one who has cause to call me that is my own dad. You are the furthest thing from it.”

“Guys…” Sam said from the porch, rather uneasily.  
  
“And you probably think that your daddy is the epitome of all things well and good, right? Well let me break it to you boy, that theory couldn’t be further from the truth.”  
  
“Boys, boys. Come on now, you’re upsetting the animals with this insane atmosphere you’re putting off.”  
  
Dean tried not to jump, but suddenly Brandy had appeared next to him, glancing down his shoulders to the gun in his hands and then to Jack. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? I told you to stay in the car. This is official FBI business.”

“Psh…FBI my ass. Do you think I haven’t seen enough FBI agents in my time? I work in a bar for crying out loud,” by this point she had walked closer to Jack, and all three men took a deep breath as she stepped in between the line of fire from Dean to her so-called-friend’s father.  
  
“ _Move_ ,” Dean growled through clenched teeth.  
  
Brandy tilted her head at him and seemed to make a sound that sounded like a scoff in his general direction. She turned to Jack as she rolled her eyes at Dean. “Amateur.”  
Brandy slid her arm across Jack’s shoulder, the one with the hand that had the finger on the trigger. Like a snake hers followed his, and Dean could see that the man was starting to twitch. _Yeah…definitely something not right!_  
  
Dean let his eyes flit to his brother’s confused face. “ _Where did you pick up this chick?”_ Sam mouthed to him.  
  
Dean let go of his trigger, using both shoulders to shrug. It was a move he immediately regretted, because while Brandy’s hand was still on Jack’s she turned back to him, and as she blinked her eyes turned pitch black. She smiled. Dean shuddered but kept his face set like stone.  
 __  
Demon.  
  
“Guns are funny things, aren’t they? So much power, harnessed in one small area, ready to explode at the wrong second…” she leaned over and whispered something into Jack’s ear that made him utter the word, “Bitch…”  
  
Brandy withdrew from his ear. Dean knew that she knew she was in control. “Now…what to do with you three? Or I could just leave you hear and go visit my best friend.” She indicated the front door of the house when she said the last bit.

* * *

Every single one of Sam’s hairs stood on end when this demon-possessed woman mentioned Katie, and something rushed through him. It was like a primal instinct that had awakened from his gut out to his fingers and toes. Sam watched the sun sink below the horizon and tried to distract himself with the twilight colors that slowly began melting into blackness.  
  
Sam squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think of the infinity of space beyond the visible stars, but all he saw there was motion. Everything in space was moving. Just as the earth circled the sun and the earth rotated on its axis something was moving inside him. Without thinking twice he reached out his hand and thought about the gun in Jack’s hands. With the force of a cannon being fired Sam was thrown off his feet; sounds of cracking followed as Sam’s back was rammed into the siding of the house.  
  
Sam was too afraid to open his eyes. He didn’t want to confirm what he already felt in his hands. As his fingers curled around the cold barrel of Jack’s shotgun he peeled his eyes open to the scene that started unfolding in the space below the steps of the porch. There was Dean, his brother, standing behind Jack and Brandy, with a look of utter shock freezing his mouth in a slight _o_. His eyes fluttered to Jack, who looked more angry than shocked, but his eyes…his eyes were starting to tell Sam another story.  
  
In a flash Sam turned the rifle’s barrel toward Brandy. Loud whinnies had started emanating from the barn as the horses were stirred by the supernatural forces that Sam himself could feel coursing through his veins. Even Brandy was stunned into silence. Granted it was just for a few moments, but the silence gave him enough time to regain his ground, barricading the path between her and Katie. Katie who was still unconscious in the house behind him.  
Without warning a scream ripped through the silence, causing those who weren’t already facing the house to face it. “ _Katie…_ ” Sam breathed. Before he could make his move the sound of heavy boots pounded up the stairs behind him, and Sam recognized Jack’s figure as he flew into the house.  
  
“Well now. Isn’t this an interesting turn of events?” Brandy said, smiling as she turned to Dean. Dean, who had started to follow Jack and Sam into the house, turned back to Brandy. But she was gone.  
  
“Frikkin demons…”

* * *

Sam bolted up the stairs towards Katie’s room. He wasn’t far behind Jack, who had surprised him for being so quick on his feet. Jack didn’t strike him as the kind of man who was into this sort of thing, but the more he thought about it the more it becoming clearer. _Jack was a hunter_.  
  
Something inside his brain clicked as he relinquished his control of Jack’s rifle back to its owner, and he withdrew his own handgun from his back pocket. As the three men burst into Katie’s room a strong, unwelcome, familiar stench nearly choked them.  
  
“Katie!” Sam called as Jack headed for the open window.  
  
“There!” he said, pointing out the ripped-through screen.  
  
Sam joined Jack at the window in time to see Katie disappear past the safety of the motion-sensor lights that dotted the more-traveled parts of the farm. The horses continued their whines. Sam didn’t blame them. “How the hell did she get out there so fast?”  
  
“I think that’s the least of our worries…”  
  
Sam turned towards his brother, who’d found the yellow-green sulfur powder that seemed to line the room.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Katie tripped and felt her body falling to the ground. She tried to brace herself against the impact, holding her hands out but still hit the dirt hard, knocking the wind out of her. A sob escaped her lips as she pushed herself up with her injured palms, trying to get back up again as she felt the panic rise in her. She could hear Samson in his stall; the horse making noises she had never heard before. It was a cross between a growl and a scream and although she wanted to go back and comfort him the only thought running through her head was she had to leave the farm. She had to keep her dad and Sam safe. _Safe from myself_ , she thought.

She reached the barn and yanked open the door, breaking into a full run to where Samson was . Through eyes blurry with tears and shaky hands she finally got the latch open and swung the stall door wide. Katie grabbed hold of the black mane and with all the strength she could muster she lifted her body over the horse’s huge body. She didn't have to spur him on…the horse seemed to know what she wanted. In a cloud of dust, both woman and horse galloped towards the wooded area behind the farm.

***  
“What the hell kinda trick was that, Sam?”

“Trick?”

“Really? _You’re_ the one asking about that gun flyin’ thing?” Dean stood in front of his brother, not knowing what to think.

“Dude, I’m telling you, I don’t know where that came from! That was the first time!” Sam still held Jack’s rifle in his hands. As they entered the house, though, it was quickly reclaimed.

“We’ll deal with you after all this crap,” Dean said, staring down Jack.

Sam watched as the older man paced the living room, his boots dragging heavily on the wooden floor. Sam wanted to go after Katie, but Jack was making no move to do just that.

“All due respect sir, we need to go after Katie.”

Jack stopped his pacing and turned to face the younger Winchester.. “This is on you. Got it? If something happens to her,” he paused and shook his head. “This is above your heads.” Jack turned back to the window and pulled back the drapers. He gazed into the inky darkness but his mind wasn't anywhere in the present. Instead his it went back. Back many years earlier when he first hunted with John Winchester. It was then that he got a taste of how this family functioned and Jack did not like it one bit.

***

_The screams of the young woman echoed off the cabin walls and Jack turned to face her. She was sitting in a chair with her hands tied behind the back. Duct tape was over her mouth and her face was streaked with tears. Despite the gag the woman was screaming._ _Rather…_ _the_ _d_ _emon. It was difficult for Jack to do this_ _– the_ _young woman_ _in front of him_ _reminded him so much of his Katie. Jack had to_ _keep telling_ _himself this was why he was here. To keep his daughter safe._

“ _John. Come on man. She doesn't know anything.”_

_The_ _tall_ _, dark haired man turned his head to glare at_ _Jack_ _then_ _turned his_ _focus back to the young woman. “Like hell she doesn't,” John raised his hand and made contact with her cheek. The older man reached into his jacket and took out a sliver flask._

_The woman's eyes grew large as she watched him unscrew the cap. She began to thrash against her binds. John leaned in and grabbed her cheek with his hands squeezing the delicate skin. “One more time sweetheart. Where is the yellow eyed demon?” He took his hand and ripped the duct tape from her mouth. He didn't care as she cried out in pain as the tape tore her skin._

“ _Ouch, you son of a bitch!” She spat. “I don't know. For the hundredth time. I. Don't. Know!” She gritted her teeth._

“ _Come on John, let's just perform the exercisiom and let her go.” Jack put a hand on the man's shoulder._

_John took his hand and yanked the hand from his shoulder. “There is no way I'm gonna let this bitch live. Oh no. They can never be trusted. She's a monster who deserves to be slain.”_

_The woman's eyes grew large and they fixed on Jack. “Come on! I may not know where he is...but I can find out!!”_

_John walked over_ _to the last man in their group_ _that had been sitting on the edge of a desk John extended his hand. The man_ _on the desk_ _slid his hand into the inside of his jacket,_ _producing a knife that_ _he_ _placed into John's hand._ _John_ _turned on the woman. He was so quick that Jack didn't have time to even move before the knife was plunged deep into the woman's chest. Her back arched out of the chair, her head tilted back as she convulsed. Orange lighting moved through her veins as thick black smoke erupted from her mouth._

****

A voice brought Jack out of the past and he turned to see Sam pushing himself up from the couch. “Well, I'm going after her. You don’t wanna join me? Fine. But know this, I will not stop until she's safe, got it?” Sam slid the pistol out from the waist band of his jeans. He took his hand and slid the muzzle back and forth as he headed for the back door, his brother right behind him.

 

***

Hooves hit the ground hard as the horse raced through the woods. The girl on his back was leaned against the neck, her hands wound in the thick mane. Her sobs beat in time with the sound of the hooves. She glanced to look back behind her and was relieved to see that no one was behind her. She was about to tell Samson to slow down when she felt the horse stumbled, his hooves striking a fallen log that cut off the rest of the path.

Katie was flung forward over the horse's body and landed squarely on her back, her head bouncing slightly off the ground. Her breath momentarily left her lungs and she let out a groan. She rolled over onto her side, just missing Samson's huge hooves as the horse reared up and screamed.

“Go find Sam!” she yelled at the horse. Slowly she stood and her still-bleeding hand flew to her ribs, as if that would dull the sharp pain there . She smacked the horse on the rear end making the horse rear up again. “Go! Go home!” Katie sobbed as she pushed on the horse. She turned her head to look behind her as she heard the snap of twigs. Samson reared up one last time and turned his body, racing back the way they had come.

Katie didn't take much time to see what was happening behind her. Her instincts were on full alert as she ran through the thick brush, her face and arms getting scratched by branches. She stumbled over several hidden logs but somehow she maintained her balance. She was sobbing as she ran, feeling her lungs screaming, her legs burning. No matter how fast she ran she could still hear the crash of branches and the snap of twigs.

“”NoOOO!” she screamed as she was grabbed round the waist, spun and pushed into a tree. Moonlight shone briefly into her eyes as it flashed off the cold blade of a knife as it was pressed into her throat. Katie shut her eyes tight and turned her head from the face that was inches from hers.

Her breath was stuck in her throat as a fingernail ran down the skin of her throat, smiling as they watched the rapid pulse in her neck. “I can smell your fear. And it's so very delicious.” The voice was female and Katie didn't want to see her face.

The woman closed her eyes, took in a deep breath and smiled. She flicked her wrist the sharp nail caused a bright crimson slice in Katie's neck. With a moan, the woman dipped her finger into the wound and caused it to open further. Katie felt the warmth of her blood as it ran down her neck, down her arms, off her finger tips and made the dirt below her feet darken.

“Let me give you just a little taste of what you are.” The woman hissed. She took Katie's face into her hands and turned her head. Katie felt the bile slide up her stomach and as the clouds revealed the moonlight once again Katie watched the woman's eyes turn pitch black. The woman took her fingers and squeezed open Katie's mouth. Katie put her hands up, trying to stave off the woman. It was no use. This…thing…was stronger than she .

Katie felt the warmth hit her tongue and she tried to spit out the salty liquid. But the woman sensed this and placed a hand over her mouth and nose. Katie tore at the woman's wrist and tried to pry her hand off her mouth. Several precious seconds ticked by as Katie fought the sensation of starving for oxygen. Her lungs were beginning to ache and spots floated before her eyes. She felt her knees buckle and as she shit the dirt, Katie sucked in a huge breath. She felt the liquid slid down her throat and she instantly arched her body backwards.

She screamed against the searing pain as her veins burned with fire. She raised her arms to her face to see the orange light pulse, her breathing becoming quicker as she felt a sensation overcome her. Her senses became hyper-aware and she felt a presence bearing down on them. She could smell the blood coursing through his veins and she had to have a taste. The power was flowing through her body as she lifted her head. Shock coursed through her body as she saw that the woods had disappeared. In its place was a town that seemed to have come straight out the eighteen hundreds. She slowly turned around in small circles as she tried to comprehend where she was.

 

“Welcome Katie,” the man laughed. “I've been waiting for you.”

 


	12. Chapter Twelve

Dean couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his brother this zealous about a case. As he followed Sam through the thick brush he couldn’t help but think about the last time they were together on a hunt. As usual there had been a disagreement between them on how to handle the case. That was right before Sam decided to abandon it all and run off to Stanford. Dean smiled as he ducked a branch that swung back that his moose of a brother didn’t hold for him. It must be Katie.  
  
Ever since Jessica’s death Sam has been different, and not the good kind of different. His recent bout with telekinesis was certainly a testament to that. Dean tried to talk some sense into him, “Do you really think this is the best way of doing this? We don’t even know which way we’re going.”  
  
“If you were paying attention, _Dean_ , you’d look down and know exactly where we’re going!”  
Dean looked, and sure enough there they were. Sam was following the tracks of, what Dean could imagine being, a giant horse. Dean trained his flashlight on the tracks. Dirt was flung backwards, but the tips of the hooves were still there. The horse was definitely at a full gallop. “Dude, we don’t even know how far they went.”  
  
“Shut up, Dean!” Sam whirled on his brother, causing Dean to take a step back in surprise. “You really think that you know everything, don’t you?  
  
Sam had his torch trained on Dean’s face and he shielded his eyes against the sudden light with his arm. “I never claimed to know everything.”  
  
“No, you just think that your way is the _best_ way. That there might be another logical solution to the problem.”  
  
“Like chasing a horse through the forest in the middle of the night when we don’t even–”  
A loud, desperate whinny seemed to shake the trees in the distance, coming from the opposite direction. The brothers forgot about their fight for a second as the crashing got louder, and no sooner had they turned than they were met with rearing hooves as Katie’s horse reared to a stop, his nostrils flaring as he came face to face with Sam.  
  
Sam breathed in the hot air that came from Samson’s nose. For some reason Sam relished in it as he rubbed the long nose. As he stared into the horse’s eyes he realized there was a sadness there, and as he looked to his back Sam realized there was no rider, “Samson, where’s Katie?”  
  
Dean laughed, “Seriously? A horse named _Samson??_ ”  
  
“I know the irony’s there, Dean.”  
  
“C’mon, you have to admit that’s pretty funny.”

Jack chose to stay back not because he didn’t care about his daughter but because he needed to do some searching. He needed answers. The Winchesters really were all the same. Maybe they were too ambitious…maybe it was something as simple as thinking too much with their feelings. Whichever the case, he needed his books and he needed them fast.  
  
After the boys ran out the back door Jack had spun on his heels, his spurs jangling as he brushed down the back hallway on the first floor to his “closet.” It was a closet he didn’t even let Katie into, and a few years earlier she had stopped asking about it. Jack hoped she assumed it just contained some of her mother’s old things, which wasn’t entirely false. But as he unlocked the door and swung it open he took a moment to survey the items on the shelves of the shallow closet.  
  
Everything was just as it was when he last used the door. The boxes of old photos were on the top shelf, followed by something silky and spread out on the shelf directly below. Slowly Jack reached his hand up and pulled the garment from its resting place and held it to his nose. He breathed in his wife’s scent. After all these years a little bit of her was still left in the house. Other than Katie, that is. But Katie smelled nothing like her mother. She had a craziness all on her own and he didn’t mind that either. The nightgown in his hands was one of the few items that hadn’t been destroyed in the second-floor fire that killed his wife. Most of his effects from back then had been, and this was still a little singed but he kept it as is and didn’t burn it himself like he did with a lot of the other items following the funeral.  
  
Jack quickly folded the nightgown back up and replaced it on the shelf, the fingers on his free hand feeling the back behind some books for the second keyhole. There. He took his spare set of keys, the one with the key shape that matched the lock and inserted it. He loved hearing the mechanisms behind unlock, clicking one right after another. A light automatically clicks on when the final lock unlatched, and Jack watched as the light burst through the crack at the bottom of the shelves.  
  
He pushed the secret door open, and there, in a bunker-like room that looked like it was from the Cold War era was his pride and joy. Jack may not take very many physical hunting jobs these days, and when he did half the time it was for the soul purpose of collecting information that other hunters may not know. One whole wall contained books Jack had either written himself or gleaned from others. A layer of dust had gathered since he last needed to use this room, and he breathed the must in. It was _his_ room. While Katie had rule of the house this was the one place that was truly his and no one else’s.  
  
Katie.  
  
Jack headed for desk at the back of the room as he leaned his rifle against the leg of a table that was at the center of the room. Jack sniffed the air again and grimaced. He’d left a cup of coffee in here from the last time he used it and it had turned. Katie wasn’t going to be very happy when she came back and found that mug in the sink…  
  
He shook his head as he reached for the old rotary phone on the desk. It was this phone that he only used in desperate times, and he was glad that he hadn’t had to for this long. Pausing just for a moment, because he knew the old man was friendlier with the Winchesters than he, he swallowed his pride and dialed for Bobby Singer.

* * *

Samson was the only horse Sam ever got along with. It was Dean who knew the most about Westerns, Dean who actually knew _how_ to ride a horse. But Dean had tried to get on Samson’s back and the steed refused.  
  
“Fine, I’ll just have to run behind you,” Dean rolled his eyes as he pushed a nervous Sam up onto the horse’s back.  
  
“How do you even work this thing?”  
  
Before Dean could answer the horse took back off in the direction they had already been going in. _Lucky us,_ Dean thought as he chased after the two of them. He had to laugh as he heard his brother freaking out on the large animal,  
  
“Whoa…slow down you crazy thing!”  
  
Dean watched as the beam from Sam’s flashlight bounced through the trees, suddenly coming to a stop. A stop that was sooner than Dean had thought. By the time Dean caught up to them Sam was already off the horse’s back, was doubled over and trying to catch his breath. There were so many things Dean could say in a situation like this but he knew that if he tried Sam might actually kill him this time, so he searched the trees with his light until he came across one that looked like it has something carved into it. “Sammy, take a look at this,” he gestured towards the trunk.  
  
As the brothers got closer the horse whinnied and was off, crashing through the trees back to the farmstead. Sam turned his attention back to the tree, knowing full well that the crazy horse could take care of himself. It was only then that he realized the smell.  
  
“Sulfer,” the brothers said together.  
  
Dean looked to the ground as Sam got closer to the tree where, unmistakably, there was a word carved into the bark. A Latin word…one he wasn’t familiar with and he was familiar with a lot of Latin. The lines of the letters were jagged, as though a knife had been used to make them.  
  
“There’s lots of sulfur here. Look…” Dean indicated three sets of footprints that weren’t his or Sam’s. “Looks like two women…we need Bobby on this one.”  
  
“I hate to say it, but you’re right, ” Sam took out some paper and a pencil and took a rubbing of the etchings in the tree.  
  
“Finally, we agree on something,” Dean gave his brother the cutest side-smile he could make.  
  
“Dude, not now. As much as I don’t want to we should head back. I have a feeling Jack knows more than he’s letting on. There’s a place back at their house I wanna check out. I need to look this up too.”  
  
As the two turned back, leaving the sulfur behind, Dean looked to his brother, “Have I mentioned before that I hate camping?”  
  
“No…never,” came the sarcastic answer.  
  
“Jerk.”  
  
“Bitch.”


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Katie hunched over in pain as her bloodied left hand grabbed her stomach, and she crumpled over as her breaths came in gasps. Searing hot pain flashed throughout her body as she lifted her head to look at the man that was standing on the porch. His amber eyes glowed in the inky blackness.

“W...who,” she coughed, “Who are you?”

“Let's just say I'm a family friend,” the man chuckled as he stepped off the old creaky stairs. “I can make that pain go away, Katie. All you have to do is give in.”

“Never,” Katie groaned against the pain. The ache in her head pounded in time with her heartbeat, and it felt as if it would explode any minute.

“You are craving it, Katherine Grace. Brandie only gave you a little taste. It was enough to make your body want it. _Need_ it. It feels like you are going to die if you don't have it.” By this point he was standing next to her, staring into her with those yellow, almost snake-like eyes, “Am I right?”

Adamp sweat broke out along her body as she tried to remain upright. Katie felt her knees buckle and she collapsed to dirt. She had no strength left to keep her head from bending, her blonde hair fall around her face. She closed her eyes and as she let her mind open the world swam around her as she searched for him. _Sam_. She called out to him in the hopes he would hear her. She called to him again as her body slumped to the ground, her head hitting painfully on the ground as stars exploded behind her eyes.

***

 _Sam._ That name echoed through her mind and it was the one constant she had at the moment. She wasn't sure how she knew this, but she felt it in her soul that somehow and somewhere he would hear her. He would come for her. He just had to because that was the only way she could get out of this place.

Katie blinked her eyes a few times as she tried to adjust to the harsh glare of a light placed above her head, and she stared into the yellow halo. She sat up but was quickly forced back on the metal table by something strapped around her chest. The panic was beginning to build.

Her nerves were sizzling with the pulse of electricity and her blood felt like it was boiling. She felt a marvelous shiver run through her body making her head thrash back and forth. A noise to her right startled her and she turned to see the tall man standing just inside the door frame, leaning against the metal frame. He slid her a smile as he his blue eyes slid to the amber color she remembered from earlier.

“I can make the pain go away, Katie. I can make you so much better than you are now. You feel the power growing inside of you, don't you?”

“Let me go, you son of a bitch,” Katie gritted her teeth as she lifted her head up from the table. Her green eyes stared into the abnormal ones of the man. She could feel the hatred bubbling and rolling inside of her and it grew with each second. There was nothing more she wanted to do more than to kill him.

The man laughed he walked over to her and ran a finger along her stomach and lifted the hem of her shirt up with his finger. The touch of his finger on her bare skin Katie cry out in pain. Where ever his hand touched, it left her skin sizzling. “Ah Katie. I can feel that hatred inside of you.” He closed his eyes and took in a huge breath. A smile tugged on the corners of his mouth. He leaned down and placed his face next to her. He moved his mouth to her ear. “You are a gem Katie. The best of my collection. I will make all your dreams come true, Katie. All you have to do is join me.”

He leaned back and took his hand off her cheek and turned from him. Katie let out a scream as she heard the huge metal door clank shut. She struggled against the ties as the fear rose inside of her. She was all alone in this room strapped to a table with no hopes of getting out of this place. She leaned back her head. “LET ME OUT YOU SON OF A BITCH!”

***

When Sam and Dean got back to the farm Sam noticed Samson standing by the barn door. Sam led the slow-moving horse into the building and opened the stall. As he stood to the side to let Samson in his stall Sam noticed a slight limp and he bent down, running his hand down the leg until he felt some blood and lifted the huge hoof. Right above the hoof was a ten inch gash. Sam patted the horse on the side as he stood up and made note to come back and help him, or at least tell Miguel. As he slid the lock into the pin he jumped a bit when he turned to see Dean right behind him, staring him down.

“What?”

“You don't call. I don't hear from you for a month? You couldn't just let me know you were OK?” Dean’s voice rose with each question.

 _And there it_ is, Sam thought. _That infamous Winchester temper_. Sam scrunched his face as he balled the halter in his hands, “I had my reason's Dean, OK?”

“I'm your brother, Sammy,” Dean sighed and shook his head. Dean was tired of this fight. All he and Sam ever did was fight. It was worse after Dean showed up at Stanford. It stung a little bit as Dean realized his little brother had the life he wanted when Dean was stuck in this life. Since the death of their mother Dean was taught to be a solider and he knew that's all he was and all he would ever be. Dean knew he couldn't pull Sam back into this but his little brother was determined to find this Katie. Without it being spoken, the two brothers were hunting again. “Let's go find Jack.”

When Sam entered the living room he stopped and grabbed his head. A sharp pain started behind his eyes than traveled up along his scalp and it made his eyes feel like they would explode out of his head. “Ahhh...” He gasped as he grabbed his head. The pounding got louder in his ears and he swore he could actually hear his blood rushing through his veins.

Dean turned to Sam when he heard the gasp. He saw his brother hunched over, his eyes squeezed against pain and his hands clamped tight to his ears. “Sammy? Sam!”

With his eyes still closed, Sam lifted his head and took a step back. _Saaammm_! A voice burst into his head. “Katie.” He raised his head and his eyes fluttered open to see Dean standing before him, concern and shock on playing across his brother's face. “We need to find out what his happening here Dean. I think Katie is in a lot of trouble.”

Dean watched Sam as he walked past him heading to where the kitchen was located. The words his father told him right before he died rang into Dean's head, “ _If he turns Dean, you have to promise me. You will take care of him.”_ It was very clear what his father had meant by _take care of him._ It was the hunter’s unspoken code. But how on earth could Dean do that? Sam was his brother and the only family he had. You _never_ turn your back on family.

Tucked in down the back hallway, between the guest bedroom and the bathroom was an old wooden door. Sam took his hand and turned the knob not surprised to find it open. Sam pushed open the squeaky door and walked into the small closet. Sam was surprised to see another door was cracked open.He turned to look at Dean than stepped through the doorway and stopped as he saw Jack sitting at a desk. He head his hands clasped deeply into his hair and his elbows were braced on the wood and his ever present cowboy hat was placed next to the lamp. A half-drunk bottle of Scotch was perched to his right. As if on cue, Jack took his right hand and grabbed the bottle. He tipped his head back as he took a long swallow. When he sat the bottle down, he turned to face Sam. His eyes slid from the younger Winchester to see the older brother standing behind him.

“I know you have a lot of questions, Sam.”

Sam slowly moved into the office reaching his hand out to Jack, “All I want is the truth. Was...was her mother killed...like,” Sam swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. “Did she die in a fire?”

Jack picked up the bottle and swirled it in his fingers. _How many bottles of Scotch had he consumed since his wife died?_ Jack lost count. He was a hunter. He had seen things that would make the normal person throw up. He had to kill the young and the old. He had to see loved ones torn to bits by monsters. “The night Grace died…” Jack paused to take a swig of the drink . He paused as Dean came further into the room. The young, gruff hunter grabbed a chair, swung it around and placed his elbows on the back of it as he sat. . “Your father showed up after the funeral,” Jack turned to face Dean. “You remind me a lot of him. I heard he passed, I'm truly sorry.”

Dean squared his jaw and turned his head from the seasoned hunter. That's when he noticed the pictures that filled the tiny walls of this room. “How come he never mentioned you?”

Jack shrugged. “I don't know. We had a…falling out…of sorts. He went his way and I went mine. End of story.”

“Yeah…dad had that effect on people.”

Jack leaned back in the wooden chair and placed his arms across his chest. “I think I do. I think by not talking about what happened I put Katie's life in danger,” He turned his head and his gaze landed on a photo that was tucked on the far corner. He leaned over and plucked the picture from his resting place. He felt the tears prick behind his blue eyes.

“ _I'm going to go check On Katie.”_

_Jack turned from the television to see a woman with curly blonde hair sitting next to him. He took his hand and placed it on her arm. “Grace I'm sure she's fine.” Jack had noticed that the past week, his wife had been acting strange. She seemed nervous, anxious and a little jumpy. She would get up several times in the night just to check on their daughter. Sometimes Jack would find her asleep next to the crib. Her small delicate hand would be squeezed between the bars and rested on the infant's back._

“ _I'm just going to check on her and I'll come right back down.” She leaned down and gently kissed him. She pulled back and looked into his eyes. “I love you.”_

“ _I love you.”_

_She smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “And I love you most.”_

_Jack let out a sigh and turned his attention back on the game they had been watching. He took the remote and began to change the channel. He was in the third loop when he heard a loud thump coming from above his head. Jack lifted his head and stared up at the ceiling. He put the remote down on the table and moved his feet off onto the floor._

“ _JJJAAACCCKKK!”_

_When the scream came from the nursery Jack was on his feet in two seconds. He grabbed hold of the banister as he took two steps at a time. He saw a bright flash coming from the nursery and a rush of air. Jack covered his face as he heard the scream again and then an infant's cry._   
_Jack shielded his face as he walked into the nursery to see that the curtains were on fire. It was several feet from his daughter's crib and Jack was spurred into action. He scooped Katie out of her crib feeling the sleeve of his shirt catch on fire. While he cradled Katie, he bat the fire out with his left. Something told him to look up and when he did he let out a scream, “Graccee!! OH god!!”_

_He covered his face as he held Katie to him trying to find his way out of the burning nursery. The window behind them exploded and it sent shards into his back. Someone had met him at the bottom of the stairs and took his daughter from his arms. He wanted to protest but something was placed onto his face as he was blindly led outside._

Jack looked at Sam as he handed him the bottle. “A week later, this man shows up at my door and starts telling me all this stuff about demons. I thought he was bat crap crazy.”

“Million dollar question is,” Dean looked at Sam and then at Jack, “What the hell do they want with my brother and Katie?”

  
  
Sam reached into the back pocket of his jeans and produced the rubbing he had taken of the tree. “I think this is our answer.”  
  
Jack nodded and took his hand and scratched his beard. “I called Bobby. He's on his way. I think he could be a good help.”  
  
Dean clapped his hand and stood up from the chair. “OK. That's settle. Ain't much we can do tonight. Let's..uh...go the bar and have a few drinks.” Dean slid Jack a smile. “My treat.”


	14. Chapter 14

Dean watched his brother’s knee bounce up and down in the seat next to him as Sam’s foot anxiously tapped the floor of his car. Seeing his brother nervous made his own blood pressure rise, “Look, I know you’re not happy with this but there isn’t anything we can do until Bobby gets here. Jack doesn’t have the right materials we need to look that Latin up. You said so yourself that you had no idea what it was and you’re the one who went to college.”

“Would you quit rubbing it in, Dean? You’re not the one who’s watched this family implode.”

“Ours or theirs?”

“Hmm let’s see…now that you mention it? Both!”

“Hey! Who was it that abandoned us?” Dean was trying not to get too angry as his brother, especially since he was driving and there was a trigger-happy father in the backseat. Awkward silence followed.

“Take a right at the next intersection,” Jack huffed from the back seat.

“Thanks.”

Jack had no idea just how dysfunctional the Winchester family really was until now. He sat in the backseat of the Impala, (trying not to be too happy about finally being in a car like this), his arms crossed as he eyed the two silent brothers in the front. And I thought my family had its problems, he thought, smiling to himself a bit. He felt oddly empowered knowing this fact about the Winchesters.

As the Impala made the turn towards Jack’s favorite bar he couldn’t help but let his mind slide to when he first met Bobby Singer…

_“…and git your sorry ass off my property!”_

_Jack Chapman and John Winchester each took a step back, seemingly parting ways as a scruffy-looking man practically tossed the smaller one off his steps and into the junk yard below. Dust billowed up from the man’s body as he rolled, rather ungracefully, towards a pile of old tires. Jack was surprised at how quickly he bounced back up, his face red with anger._

_“You said you’d help! You did nothing!”_

_“There wasn’t anything TO DO!”_

_The yelling match continued._

_“But…”_

_“If you cared more about your family than yourself then MAYBE I’d help. But until then, buzz off you idjut! You can’t fix stupid!”_

_John and Jack nodded to the man as he threw his hat back on and glared at them. “Good luck trying to work with this idiot,” he scoffed as he headed to his ancient Toyota. He turned back to Bobby, who was standing on the porch of his place with his hands on his hips, in obvious command of his property, “You’ll pay for this one day!” the man yelled._

_The three others stood there in stunned silence as Bobby’s former visitor backed his car into the same pile of tires, knocking it over, and sped off down the drive Jack and John had just come up. Jack turned to Bobby._

_“You really can’t fix stupid. Trust me, I’ve tried,” Bobby said. “Well, are you two comin’ or what?”_

_“You sure have a way with people, don’t you?” John asked as he ascended the stairs into the house._

_Jack followed, rather hesitantly, and found the inside almost as dusty as the outside. The entryway sported a shelf to the left and a stairway heading to the second floor on the right, it’s carpeting looking like it hadn’t been vacuumed in twenty years. As he followed the other men there, to his left was the living room. He’d almost walked further down the dark hall when,_

_“In here, Jack.”_

_Jack turned back on his heel and headed into the room he’d almost passed up. John stepped aside and revealed the least-organized room he’d ever seen. A desk sat near an open doorway into the kitchen behind Bobby. A row of telephones lined the front of the desk, each with several labels on them. Piles of papers bookended the somewhat clear workspace where a clear bottle of some spirit sat, an empty shot glass flanking it ready to be filled._

_“Jack? Meet Bobby Singer,” John indicated the man coming out of the kitchen with two more glasses._

_Jack, who’d always been the least comfortable in new situations…he’d always let that job go to his wife…nodded a hello._

_“Oh please. Just because you saw me throw one man out of my house doesn’t mean that every man’s an idjut,” Bobby looked at him from above the rims of his glasses, a John Deere cap sitting somewhat crookedly on his head. “Unless you’re one, then we’ll have a problem.”_

_“Scotch, Jack?” John asked, offering him a glass._

Jack now sat in his favorite dive in town, absentmindedly twirling another glass that same brand of Scotch in his hands. The bar wasn’t really frequented by many businessmen and women, and he was glad for that. That’s why he picked this place more often than not. It wasn’t a posh kind of place and it didn’t pretend to be. The Hubcap’s name even threw some people off, and the others didn’t want to travel to the place that was on the outskirts of Haven.

“So Jack, what brings you here with…those two?”

Jack looked up to see Lisa, the middle-aged bar lady who owns the establishment and was a family friend. She was leaning against the tall counter next to him, her back up against the wood as she propped her elbows up. She was eyeballing the two brothers who had chosen a table near the back behind the pool tables. “I just took them their drink orders. Not quite sure what to make of them. They were pouring over some funny lookin’ language on some old papers.”

“The tall one is Sam. He’s my new ranch hand. The other is his brother. Still haven’t figured them out yet myself.”

“Well you know you can call on my husband if either of them give you or Katie any trouble. That’s what we do in this town,” she winked at him. “I better go check on Fred. He’s been back in that kitchen far too long.”

Jack watched as Lisa righted herself and straightened her apron as she headed for the double doors next to the bar. With glass in hand Jack swung in his stool to face the rest of the bar. The place was so cliché that most young people wouldn’t enjoy the atmosphere, but for old, tired farmers like him it was perfect. Near the back, where Sam and Dean were whispering, two pool tables sat side by side, each basked in light from low-hanging green lamps. For a place that prided itself on being the “old-fashioned” kind of dive it was certainly the cleanest bar he’d ever been in. Jack smiled as he took a sip of Scotch. Lisa was definitely the powerhouse behind that.

His eyes traveled across the top of his glass from the pool tables to the half wall that separated that area from the dark-green cushioned booths that lined the wall across from the bar. He was actually surprised to see some unfamiliar faces there, but then again Haven had seen a small population boom in the last few years. Two guys sat at one table, each with a bottle of something…Jack couldn’t read the labels, and one was eyeballing a lady and her friend who sat at one of the tables that were randomly positioned down the middle of the floor. Jack shook his head. Some things will never change about bars…

Other than those four, himself and the boys, the place was oddly empty for how late it was, and for some reason that started to unsettle him. As Jack set his glass down he felt a pair of eyes boring into the back of his head and as he turned every hair on his body stood on end. There, standing directly in front of him, was the demon chick Sam’s stupid-ass brother had brought to his farm. “What the hell do you want?” he asked through his teeth.

“I just wanted to visit my best friend’s dad. Can’t a girl get a drink with a few hotties?” she leaned into him, closing her eyes as she sniffed. “Ah…fear,” Her black eyes blinked up at him. “It’s intoxicating, isn’t it?”

Jack began praying that Lisa or Fred wouldn’t come out of the kitchen now, “Where the hell is my daughter?” he asked, wanting to use a specific word but he was certain that a lady was still somewhere inside Brandie. There had to be…

“She’s someplace…special…right now. Don’t worry, she’s being taken care of real nice.”

“I bet your “real nice” doesn’t mean the same thing coming from humans, does it?” Sam and Dean had appeared behind Brandie, each of them had out their choice weapons ready to go.

“Boys, please. You’re interrupting,” Brandie crooned, dragging the words out unnecessarily. She held out her hand, her palm towards them without turning herself, and instantly the Winchesters were flung back, each landing against one of the square poles that held the roof up.

Jack stood there, calculating plans and risks as he watched the boys struggle. Sure, they were Winchesters. But no one, no one, deserved to die at the hands of demons. Unless, to use the choice words of Bobby Singer, they were complete idjuts who didn’t know what they were doing.

Brandie turned to the boys and smiled, “Now you just stay there.”

“You wouldn’t really be this stupid…to come by yourself?” Jack asked, staring down at the short woman. He was almost afraid of the answer but if there was one thing he knew about demons it was that they were…well…predictably unpredictable.

“No, she isn’t alone.”

That voice.

Jack turned his head towards the door. There, standing flanked by the two guys who had been eyeballing the ladies a few moments ago, was the guy Bobby Singer had thrown off his porch all those years earlier. Except this time he wasn’t covered in dust and grime. He was clean cut and clean-shaven, his shoulders sporting an expensive-looking blazer that was tailored perfectly to fit his tall frame.

“Jack. How nice to see you again my old friend,” he held his arms out, as if he were welcoming an old college roommate or long lost cousin.

“You,” Jack whipped his firearm out of his jacket pocket, cocking it as he pointed it at the man’s head.

The man blinked and his eyes turned amber. At the same time everyone else who was left in the bar’s eyes went as black as Brandie’s. Brandie who still held Sam and Dean up against the posts. “You see, Jack. After Mister Singer threw me out of his house that night I caught wind of this thing called…what was it? Oh yes. A crossroad demon,” the man started walking around the room until he reached Sam. “And instead of the usual deal she made that included the messy business of hellhounds and ten years and whatnot, they saw something inside me that could help them.”

Jack followed the man with the muzzle of his gun trained on the forehead. His fingers were shaking, but for some reason he wanted to know more…

“I agreed to be the new vessel. It turns out we’re very compatible. Just like Katie…in a way.”

“What have you done with my daughter you son of a bitch?” he managed to get out through clenched teeth.

Something caught the man’s eye, much less every eye in the establishment. Lisa had come back through the doors, carrying a tray of rolled silverware. She’d backed into the place so she wouldn’t spill it all on the floor when a door swung and hit the tray. And as she turned her eyes flitted from the brothers hanging in midair against the poles to Brandie; from Jack to the man with the amber eyes.

“Lisa, go!” Jack yelled

The tray slipped from her hands, the falling silverware distracted Brandie long enough that Sam came crashing to the floor. Finally free, Sam lunged across the room to where his and Dean’s pistols had dropped. As he righted himself, each hand holding a gun, the man started laughing.

“Do you really think that those can kill me?”

“No, but this might,” a new voice said. Every eye turned on the front door, and there stood Bobby Singer. In his hands he rolled around a blade, the dim light of The Hubcap seemed to sparkle off of it as every demon in the place drew a collective breath. Everyone that is except for the amber eyed man, who just smiled.

“Hello Bobby. I see you’re still getting people out of tight places.”

Sam stood there, feeling the same anger beginning to build in him as when Brandie was originally at the farm. He tried to fight it but there wasn’t much he could do. The number of demons in the place, especially the amber-eyed one, was causing him to lose control.

He closed his eyes and tried to not focus on the knife. But in his mind’s eye, through the pain in the back of his head, the knife came flying to him. Instinctively he dropped Dean’s pistol, and when it fell another metal object replaced it. Sam opened his eyes and to his dismay there was Bobby’s knife. Bobby, who stood dumbfounded at the entrance. Breathing hard he found his voice. “Okay. We can do this the hard way or the easy way. Which will it be?” he stared them all down, feeling empowered by the knife that seemed to hold rapt attention.

The amber-eyed man nodded to Brandie who finally let her palm fall. With it came Dean, who flew over to retrieve his weapon from where Sam had dropped it. Sam who couldn’t look at his brother right now.

The man turned to Bobby, “You win…this round…But just this round,” he looked to the other three men as they slid out of the bar and into the night.

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

Katie struggled against the two men who had a hold of her arms. They dragged her down a dirty hallway to where a single door stood. The buzz of the florescent lights made her head hurt and the flashing made her dizzy. She was trying to get an idea where she was but she was pulled under by the strong tides of unconsciousness. When she did slump over she never touched the floor. The men had such a grip on her that they dragged her the rest of the way down the hall. With her feet scraping along the cement floor and she felt her mind reach out again.

 _Sammm_. It didn't take long for a vision to enter her mind...

_Sam was pinned against the wall, his eyes shut tight. Sweat beaded along his forehead and the corners of his mouth moved as he whispered an incantation. She could feel Sam's confusion. The Latin Sam was speakinghad never been uttered on earth. When demons were the prominent beings, this was language they used. No human had ever heard this, until now. She “watched” as a knife flew to Sam's hand, and he lifted his right hand for it, dropping his gun onto the floor. He held up the hand that now sported the knife…_

When her eyes finally fluttered open, she was shocked to find herself sitting a long wooden table. In front of her was placed a silver goblet. At the moment this vessel was currently empty. She turned her head when she heard the squeak of a door, and in stepped the tall man with the snake-like eyes. She wasn't sure what he was, but she could smell the evil inside of him.

He smiled at her, his amber eyes locked on hers, as he walked to her left side. He reached down with a long finger nail and pushed a piece of hair behind her ear. “I hope you're accommodations have been to your liking?” he smiled as he pulled out a chair the legs scrapped on the worn down floor. When she didn't answer, he took his hand and wound it tightly into the back of her hair. Without warning he slammed her head into the wood. She blacked out for a few seconds but something warm running down her chin brought her back to reality. With his hand still wound into her hair, he leaned forward. His breath smelled sour, almost like death itself was breathing on her. “When I ask you a question, the polite thing to do is answer.”

Katie began to sob as she nodded, “Y...yes… Thank you.”

He smiled and sat back down in the chair. He smoothed his navy blue blazer as he crossed his right leg over his left. “I know you have some questions Katie. So I'm going to let you ask as many as you want. I think it's time you knew who you are.”

With a shaking hand Katie reached up to her nose. The pain there was starting to pulse. When she pulled it back there was blood on her fingers. “Who are you?”

“Now...that is the question of the day, isn't it? Let's begin by saying this. You have always felt different haven't you Katie? As far as you can remember, you’ve felt it.”

Katie closed her eyes as she thought back to when she was little. Countless nights she would wake up screaming for no known reason. She would only remember glimpse of the dream. But it was all the same: A woman screaming and the sounds of a baby crying. She turned her head to look at the man, “Yes…” she answered slowly, afraid of the response.

“There is a reason for that, Katie.” He reached over and cupped the back of her head with his hand. “You are special, my Katie. And do you know why you are special?”

“Why?” She wanted to get as far away from this man as she could. He scared her.

“Don't you wonder who we are?”

She closed her eyes as the word came to her and she spit it out before she could stop herself, “Demons.”

The man laughed, “Yes Katie. And so are you.”

“I. Am. Not.”

The man stood up from the chair once again and began to pace in front of Katie. “Did your father ever tell you the truth about how your mother died?”

Katie watched him as he slowly walked back and forth in front of her, feeling her heart seize. “He told me,” she stuttered, “that she died in a car accident.”

The man let out a low chuckle, shook his head and began to pace again. “Oh Jack, always a liar. No, I’m afraid your mother didn't die in a car accident.”

“Then, how did she die?” Katie's voice was low, almost to a whisper as she watched the man turned to look at her.

He leaned into her and placed his hands on either side of the chair’s arms, making sure she didn't move. He watched her green eyes as his slid to the amber color again. “She made a deal, Katie. And now, I'm going to offer you the same deal. Join me. Join me and I’ll make sure that your precious daddy doesn't die. It's that simple.” He turned to the silver goblet and picked it up in his hands, twirling it in his hands as he looked back at Katie. “I think it's safe to say, dear Katie, their lives are in your hands,” he took his fingernail and sliced open the skin between his wrist and his palm. Crimson blood collected along the cut and Katie watched as it dripped into the goblet. She could feel the burning pain begin in her stomach as the copper scent of the blood hit her nose.

“So. I will make this pain go away. I can make you better than you are now. All you have to do,” He leaned down again and placed the cup under her nose. “Bring me Sam Winchester and this will be yours.” He placed the cup to her lips and smiled as she hungrily sucked the blood down.

 

***

The journal sat on the table, mocking him. It taunted Dean as he poured his tumbler full of Scotch and he took a healthy sip. He sighed and sat the glass on the table and rubbed his upper lip with his finger. They weren't getting anywhere with their research and Dean knew the answers were somewhere in this damn thing.

He let out a sigh and picked up the journal, feeling the cracked leather in his hands. With his tongue and swept off the remains of the Scotch off the lip of the glass and began his second attempt to read. The first ten pages were boring.

Dean did not want to read about Janice's wedding or the birth of her daughter. He wanted to get to the juicy stuff. Well, the juicy stuff he wanted to read that wasn’t about childbirth. Dean shuddered when he thought back to that part.As he read he began to notice that the dates were getting longer and longer between each entry and what was once three pages of writing was now just a paragraph or less.

“Okay, well, thank you,” Sam's voice interrupted Dean's train of thought. He turned to see his brother sit across from him, the phone to his ear. “No, you were a big help. Thanks.” He slapped the phone shut and his smile fell from his face. He threw the phone into the middle of the table and looked at Dean. “Anything good?”

“Not one damn thing,” Dean mumbled as he grabbed the bottle and refilled his glass. He looked up at Sam from over the top of the book. The elephant in the room, what both brothers did not want to talk about, was what happened at the bar. He watched as his brother sat at the laptop and rubbed his head. Dean wanted to ask the question but was afraid of the answer, “You?”

Sam scratched the back of his head as he reached for the keypad. He tried to ignore the pain he was feeling behind his eyes. The pain he now knew to come right before the immense amount of pressure. He closed his eyes for a second, blocking it as best as he could. His fingers flitted to the power button, pressed it and then drummed them against the wood of the table as he waited for it to cue up. “Yeah, the M.E. in Silverton Colorado said that a young girl was found in the woods,” he glanced up at Dean who was looking at him from behind the journal. For just a brief second Sam was certain he saw fear in his brother’s green eyes. Fear of what? “She's emailing what they found etched on her body.”

“Wait, what?” Dean closed the journal and set it on the table. “Something was carved on her body?”

Sam turned his laptop so the screen could face Dean. Dean leaned forward to look, a frown tugging on the corner of his mouth. It was a photo of a young woman lying on a metal table. Her dark blond hair was caked with blood. The young woman's alabaster skin was unmarked, except for a one inch scar written just below her rib cage. Abbatis was crudely scrawled into her skin the lettering red and jagged. It almost looked like it had been carved with a knife.

Dean tore his gaze from the lap top to look at Sam, “What does it mean?”

The two brothers turned their heads when a voice come from the doorway to Jack’s hunter’s room. Jack himself stood just inside and was holding a leather bound book that had seen better days. “It means father.”

Dean looked at Sam, than back to Jack. “Father? Of what?”

Jack opened his mouth to respond, when an ear piercing scream came from the front yard and seconds later a loud whinny come from the barn, making the hair on the back of Sam’s neck stand on end. In the mad scramble he wasn't sure who had opened the door first, but all Sam could think about as he heard weaponry being cocked was finding the source of that scream. From the sounds that Samson was making in the barn, Sam knew it could only be Katie.

“Katie!” Sam called as he jogged to where the barn was, trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from. He had his hand on the barn’s door, watching Jack look wildly around, when another scream sliced through the night. A shriek came from inside the stalls as Samson let out his frustration.

“Sammy?!” Dean's voice came over where the trucks were parked. There was no moon that night so it was hard to see the property. No matter how dark it was Dean’s hunter instincts would always kick in. He heard footsteps near the barn and Dean poked his head around the tailgate. Sam was now turning from the barn and headed off towards a dirt path.

am heard the click of the gun and he knew his brother had it ready at a moment's notice. Sam felt the butt of the knife that was tucked between his plaid shirt and his jeans. His footsteps were quiet as he walked down the path that led to the creek. “Katie?”

“Saaammmm!”

As he ran through the wooded area that led to the creek, Sam used his hands to catch the limbs, just barely aware that Dean was right behind. He jumped over a fallen log and his foot slipped in the mud. He fell painfully to his knees and felt himself falling down the side of the hill. He let out a groan as his shoulder smacked into a boulder and he came to rest twenty feet below the mound. He sat up and placed his large hand on the side of his rib. He came to his feet and was about to move, when he saw the dark figure lying on the ground.


	16. Chapter 16

As Dean finished checking the perimeter he heard his brother talk softly to Katie, “Katie? Can you hear me?”

Dean listened, but there was no response. She was out cold. At least, he hoped that’s what she was. As Dean returned to the top of the hill where Sam had fallen moments earlier he found Jack reaching a hand out to his brother. Sam, who had Katie over his shoulder so he could get her up, glanced at the hand, not used to the showmanship Jack was offering.

Dean helped Sam reposition Katie. He had to admit that his brother certainly knew how to pick them. The wind had picked up a few moments earlier, and her blonde hair moved in time with the rustle from the canopy of leaves overhead.

“C’mon. We gotta get back to Bobby. I don’t feel comfortable with so many freakkin demons running around this place.”

“Well if you hadn’t lost that knife…”

“Hey, I didn’t touch that damn thing once.”

“I meant you in general, Winchester,” Jack hissed.

“Would both of you just shut up? We can argue who lost what later,” Sam shoved his way between Jack and his brother who had been staring each other down as though they were lions marking territory. At that moment he didn’t want to think about demons or unrecognizable Latin or how his father treated people. All he cared about was the girl cradled in his arms as he searched for the path back to the homestead.

Sam had been the one to carry Katie up to her room. He was surprised that Jack had let him, and he had felt everyone’s eyes boring into the back of his head. Sam had pushed the door to her room open with his shoulder, sliding in sideways so her feet wouldn’t hit the doorframe.

Katie didn’t stir as Sam gently laid her on her immaculately-made bed. He wasn’t surprised that she liked to keep things clean, being the only woman in the house.

“Here.”

Sam turned to find Jack behind him, a bowl of water and a couple rags in his hands. Sam was surprised at the look on Jack’s face. He’d gotten so used to the rock-solid exterior that Sam had forgotten that he was still just human. “Thanks…” he accepted them as Jack took a last look at Katie and made a humph noise before he left. Sam was fairly certain that it had been directed him and not his daughter.

As Sam wiped the blood from her face he smiled, Girls have been great equalizers for forever, he thought. No matter how angry men may be at one another there always seemed to be a woman who could soften them.

The further Sam went the more blood and dirt he found, but he didn’t mind one bit playing “doctor.” Usually it was just on Dean who really was such a baby sometimes when it came to patching up. It was nice to not have a patient hurling death threats for once. What puzzled him was the texture of her skin. It wasn’t its supple softness he remembered so vividly. As he moved the wet, bloodied cloth down her arm he leaned forward and planted a kiss on her lips…

Dean paced the room as the two older hunters sat at the kitchen table. In a few hours the sun would be up, but Dean was used to going for days without a decent amount of sleep. That meant that when their job was finally done he could sleep for a week and no one would care. Until the next call that is…

Jack had pulled out a chalkboard from somewhere and had it set up in front of the wall with the bookshelves. Abbatis had been scrawled across the middle, with several other images posted below it. One of the girl from the morgue, with it carved into her stomach, the rubbing that Sam had made when they first went to find Katie, and then a third, another one that Bobby had brought with them. They still didn’t know what that one meant, and he and Jack were currently scouring the books Bobby had brought with him.

“Did you really have to bring all of that with you? There’s something called the Internet you know.”

“Don’t be an idjut, Dean. This is the stuff that the Internets don’t have.”

“Speaking of what we don’t have, Dean. Hand over that journal.”

“I’m going to call pirate code here.”

“Really? Pirate code? You’re not goddam Blackbeard.”

“Yeah…pirate code. Um…parlay.”

“You’ve been watchin’ too much tv.”

“Hey, I did the work to get it. I’ll look through it.”

“You mean to tell me that from the time I called you to now you haven’t looked through it at all?”

“Well, at least I found Sammy,”

Bobby glared.

“All right all right I went through it once…vaguely. There wasn’t anything in there like this.”

“I doubt you knew what you were looking for,” Jack huffed from behind his shot glass.

“Like you would have…”

“Okay children, that’s enough trash talk. Dean, sit your behind down and work insteada pacing. You’re making me dizzy.”

Sam didn’t care if anyone else walked in as he dressed Katie in something clean. Her shirt had blood stains on it and he was positive it was her own. Her nose hadn’t been broken but it looked like it was close. He’d drawn her close to him in a sitting position to pull her nightshirt over her head when she groaned. Sam paused and looked down to her face. Her eyes hadn’t opened, so he assumed she was just dreaming as he pulled her arms through the sleeves of the pale yellow top.

He glanced at the clock as he finished tucking her in and rubbed his eyes. It was five-thirty. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept but he knew he had to somehow diffuse the tension he knew was building downstairs. Sam wasn’t sure how Katie normally slept, so he left the small lamp on her desk by the door turned on as he closed the door behind him.

When Sam reached the hallway where the entrance to Jack’s room was it was…for lack of a better phrase than Sam could think at that moment…a total and complete bitchfest. He couldn’t help but stand outside the door and lean against the wall to listen:

“Really? You think that’s what it means?”

“Well it’s better than anything you’ve dug up in a journal you won’t let anyone else read, dickhead.”

“Hey, the only two people allowed to call me dickhead are Bobby and Sam!”

“Well, dickhead, that’s what you’re being right now.”

“Love you too Bobby.”

“What do you know about that?”

“I…love sandwiches. Could totally go for a burger right about now.”

Sam saw his chance, “Okay, supply run. Who wants to go?” he asked as he entered the room.

All three men, each buried deep in a pile of books and papers turned to him at once, “I’ll go if he doesn’t.

Sam stood there, open-mouthed and tried not to laugh, “Dean, can I see you a minute?”

“But…”

“Now, Dean. Seriously…”

“Leave that, idjut…” Bobby said, indicating the journal, and Sam had to admit Bobby had put his scary face on because oddly, Dean complied.

Sam drew Dean out into the hallway, “Look, we all need a breather. Why don’t you go to town with Jack or Bobby for…I don’t know…I’m sure you guys drank all Jack’s stash by now.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me, there’s no way in hell I’m going anywhere with that jagoff.”

“Jagoff? Really?”

“Hey, it’s a legit word.”

“C’mon…before the three of you manage to blow this place up before anything gets solved.”

“I’ll rock paper scissors you for it?”

“Aren’t we a little old for that?”

“We did it before you decided to go all postal and poofy on me.”

“Okay fine. You win, I’ll go with Jack to town and you stay here to keep an eye on Katie. If I win, you go with Jack.”

“Oh God, Sammy, why am I always the babysitter?”

“Just count, Dean.”

“One two three shoot.”…

“Damn…”

Dean poked his head around the doorframe, “Hey Jack…looks like it’s you and Sammy goin’ to town. We need fuel.”

Jack didn’t look too happy as he met the boys in the hallway.

“So long as you two don’t kill each other you’ll be fine,” Dean grinned.

“Just keep an eye on Katie, okay? We don’t need her running off again.”

“Got it….and get me a burger!”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Katie come to an understanding and Dean realizes how far out of Sam's league she really is.

Katie jerked awake and she laid completely still, trying to take in where she was. Her last memory was being tortured at the hands of the yellow eyed demon but she wasn't there any more, so where was she? Her palms slid under her. She was on a bed. She could feel the softness of the sheets underneath her. Slowly she opened her eyes and looked down to find that she was in her pale yellow night shirt. Katie was sure that she was not dressed like that before.

As Katie slowly raised herself into a sitting position she noticed how much pain she was in. She let out a gasp as her left handed cradled her ribs on her right side. She could feel the bones grate underneath her fingers as she moved her feet towards the edge of her bed. This movement caused a sharp pain in the back of her head and stars exploded behind her eyes.

Despite her pain her body stiffened at a sudden creak of a floorboard on the other side of the door. She turned her body to the pillow and slid her hand under and felt around for what she kept stashed. Ever since her dreams turned into nightmares, Katie kept a butcher's knife tucked under the pillow. A few seconds ticked by and panic began to tickle the back of her mind, Where is it?! As the door handle turned, she found it.

As the door creaked opened she slid the knife out from under the pillow and threw it. With a thunk and a slight ping! the knife sank into the wall, right next to the face of the man who had come into the room. When the knife hit the wall next to his head, he dropped his pitcher of water. His mouth was wide as the pitcher crashed to the floor sending glass and water all over the hard wood floor.

“Son of a bitch!” Green eyes were wide with fright as the man with short dark hair processed what just happened. She watched as his handsome features went from shock to anger in three point zero seconds. “Are you crazy?”

“Who the hell are you?!” Katie yelled as she dove for the piece of broken pitcher. “What the hell are you doing in my house?” Her eyes moved to the man that had come behind Green Eyes. “B...Bobby?” she asked quietly.

Bobby walked past Dean and held his hands out in front of him, letting Katie see he had nothing in his hands, “Katie…it's OK. This is Dean...Winchester.”

Katie lowered her hand that was holding the shard of glass, but ever so slightly, “Winchester? You're Sam's brother?” She moved her eyes over to Bobby, then back on Dean, “Where is my father?” She felt her voice break at the mention of her father. She had a bad feeling that something happened to him or…was going to… “Is…is he OK?”

“Jack is fine, Katie. He went to town with Sam. Why don't you put that down? I think you're making Dean a little nervous.”

Dean looked at Bobby than smirked at Katie, “Can you put that shard down?”

Katie looked at the makeshift weapon in her hand and debated whether she should or not. The way this Dean Winchester was looking at her, made her nervous. She finally tossed the shard aside and looked at Bobby, “What are you doing here?”

Bobby motioned with his head to the downstairs, “Why don't we get a few drinks? This might take a while.”

 

***

 

Katie sat on the couch with her back straight, ignoring the pain that was still throbbing through her body. Her hands were placed in her lap and her attention was on the man sitting at the dining room table. He had a bottle of Scotch to his lips and was taking a huge drink. It shocked her to see how much he was consuming, but it didn't seem to faze him.

He is a hunter, her mind screamed at her. She felt fear regarding this man and she wasn't sure where it was coming from. He was so different from Sam…damaged, angry and hurt. She could see it all on his face. He will cut you down. Do not trust him.

“I don't remember anything. I'm sorry...” she moved her eyes to the floor not wanting his on hers any longer. She could still feel them boring a hole into her skull so she closed her eyes. When she did, she felt a pain start from behind her eyes and she squeezed them tightly. Her ears began to ring so she instinctively placed her hands over them trying to drown out the voices swimming around in her head.

Jack! Behind you! Katie felt herself turning and she saw her father standing behind her. He was holding a knife in his hands but that was no match to the several guys who jumped on him. She tried to scream, to warn him, but nothing came out of her mouth. From a far away, she heard a primal scream and she tried to pinpoint where this was coming from.

She smelled something musty and her eyes slowly fluttered open to see that she was lying on the dirt path that led to the barn. How in the hell did she get all the way out here? She heard Samson screaming in his stall. The sound of his heavy hooves shook the barn. She tried to get up, but her head was hurting so bad. She turned over on her side and felt her stomach heave. She felt hands on her but she brushed them away as she struggled to stand.

“Katie!” she recognized the deep voice of Bobby. The once tough guy tenderly helped her from the ground, seeing the blood from her head, “Let's get you inside and cleaned up.”

As Bobby slid an arm around her waist and slowly walked her back inside the house. He caught Dean's concerned gaze from the porch, letting Bobby know he was just as worried. They had been talking to Katie when she suddenly went blank. Her body began to shake as her eyes squeezed tight and she began screaming Sam's name. Bobby could see the turmoil on Dean's face as this young girl screamed for his brother. When Dean went to touch her, she stood up from the couch and with shocking strength she had pushed the much bigger man, making him fall hard on his butt. Then she was running out the house where she fell heavily to the dirt.

Bobby left her standing in the middle of the living room as he went to the bathroom to collect a washcloth.

Katie watched him leave then turned her attention to Dean as she stood there shaking. She wasn't sure what she saw in his face. Concern? Anger?

He slid his hands into the pocket of his worn leather jacket…just like Sam did… “I know you saw something. Right now I'm going to just let it slid. But Sam is in trouble, isn't he?”

“Yes.”

Dean motioned with his head to the door, “Let's go before Bobby gets back in here.”

Katie slowly followed Dean to where the barn was located. Parked next to her blue truck, was a shinning black Impala. She slowly ran her hand along the glossy finish, her eyes beaming. “I've wanted my dad to get me one of these.What is she? A '67 327 engine and four barrell carburetor?.” She smiled over the hood at Dean and saw his face. “My dad knows a lot about cars.”

Dean shook off his shock and opened the driver's door. “We better get going.”

Katie slid into the leather seat and was quiet as Dean peeled out of the dirt driveway. She hardly noticed how fast he was going. Her mind instead was on what happened in the living room. She had called Dean, what was the word? Hunter? But what the hell was a hunter? Dean and Sam seemed to know her dad and from what she could tell, something bitter had happened between them.

She turned her head to look at Dean. “You call yourself a hunter. But it's not the Bambie killing type is it? What Sam and you do....is what my dad does, right?”

Dean tore his gaze off the inky black road for just a second to see the look on her face. “Katie..there is a lot you don't know, but I don't think you should at this moment..”

“Why?” Katie fired back, “Is it because I'm a girl?”

Dean looked at her again than back at the road. He took his foot and applied it to the brake, slowing the car just a bit. “Because what we are after..will kill you...and I know my brother. He wants to make sure you are safe.”

Katie frowned and turned her attention to the road. “Well, it's not his choice Dean. This is personal now and no mattter what you or him do, I'm hunting this thing down.”


	18. Chapter 18

Sam had calculated a forty-five minute drive from the end of the dirt lane to the homestead into town the last time he rode with a Chapman. The only difference between the two was their driving skills. Katie seemed to have a slight wild streak and a need for speed, oddly enough, just like Dean. On the other hand Jack was fast but careful. The combination seemed like a strange one but for Jack it fit his personality.

Several times Sam had opened his mouth to ask the man a question, but when he saw the set face out of the corner of his eye he relented and went back to staring out the open window, his elbow up where the glass disappeared into the door. Sam could sort of understand why Jack was antsy. He was leaving his daughter with another Winchester, demons were popping up out of nowhere and he was stuck on an errand with the one man he probably feared the most – a Winchester who may, or may not, have gotten too close to his daughter. Sam almost wanted to confess but from seeing the same thing happen with his brother he kept his mouth shut. Sam already had Dean’s own special form of trouble following them. They didn’t need anymore.

Jack’s voice broke the awkward silence, “For some strange reason I have a feeling that if I don’t at least attempt to get along with one of the Winchester’s I will never hear the end of it from Katie.”

Sam sat in stunned silence, waiting for the driver’s next words.

Jack sighed and flipped on his turn signal as a crossroad came into view. The soft clicking seemed to resonate like a Chinese gong. “Katie apparently has some notion that you are a good guy in this, but from what I’ve been seeing,” Jack shook his head. “As you can see I’m having a hard time believing it considering your recent bouts of weirdness,” he made the turn onto Locks Lane, its road sign posted above the one that had Haven written on it with an arrow that, at some point, had broken in half and hadn’t yet been fixed. Sam watched it shrink in the distance through the rear view mirror.

“Trust me, sir, I had absolutely no idea that was going to happen. Sure I’d been feeling funny lately but that? That was the first time.”

“I wanna believe you, I do. But you have to understand, boy, that the name Winchester just rubs me the wrong way. Now, the Winchester rifle…that’s entirely different. That’s a good piece of machinery. I have yet to establish if you are a ‘good piece’ or not.”

Sam leaned back in the worn fabric of his seat. The truck, just like their farm, had seen better days. From his understanding of Haven it was once a bustling farming town but the sizes of the surrounding farms had greatly diminished once corporations began buying land off of people. As far as Sam could tell Jack’s farm was the only one that remained largely intact. “Well, I know you raise horses. Do you do any crops?”

Jack glanced at Sam, “You really don’t have to make small talk.”

Sam mouthed oookay to himself as they rode the rest of the way to Haven in silence. Only twenty-nine more minutes to go…

* * *

 

Dean wasn’t sure how to process Katie. Normally he liked strong women, but this one did make him a bit nervous and he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. He’d been used to having an empty seat next to him in the Impala for so long that knowing there was a body there again made him be more mindful of his driving. He’d gotten sloppy since Sam hadn’t been there to yell at him for his taste in music or for driving too fast. Dean had fired back, on more than one occasion, that he knew how to take care of his things. Finally he gave up on the silence and switched on his tape deck, I just keep losin’ my beat. I’m okay, I’m alright. I ain’t gonna face no defeat… (Queen - Somebody To Love)

Katie side-glanced Dean, annoyance playing across her face, “My God, you’ve got to be kidding.”

“C’mon, everyone loves Queen!”

“My dad likes Queen. Do you know how many times I have to hear that blasting across the field when he’s on the tractor?”

“Nope, no idea at all,” he cranked it, thoroughly enjoying having found someone else to annoy and proceeded to sing with it, adding air drums as the song progressed. Suddenly there was quiet, and Dean stopped instantly, “Hey…no touching the tape deck!”

“I already have to put up with that with Jack. Sure you got a sweet ride but your music sucks,” Katie stopped, holding her hands out in front of her and she felt Dean’s eyes on her. Oh crap…

“What? What is it?”

Katie’s fingers were tingling again and she shut her eyes against the pain as the vision swam in front of her eyes, Dean’s voice calling her name grew faint;

Katie was walking with Sam. They were on Main Street in Haven but everything was muted. She couldn’t hear anything, and Haven looked like that one movie…what was it? Pleasantville. The world was painted grey. They passed the corner store she and her dad frequented more than the big box store the next town over and as they did Katie watched Sam turn, his eyes wide with urgency. Katie turned with him and saw her father get pushed out of the store, several bags falling to the ground…

“Katie!”

Katie snapped back, her eyes flickering back into focus as they turned to Dean. She hadn’t expected seeing that…that look on his face. It was just like Sam’s… “Hurry…just…hurry…”

Jack had gone into one of the corner stores by himself, leaving Sam alone in the old truck parked on the main drive of town. They had passed the establishment where he had met Katie a few days earlier on the way in, and instead of staying with the truck he decided to walk. He was getting jittery, but not because of Jack. No…it was a different feeling and he didn’t like it. Most towns he and Dean had jobs in weren’t this quiet in the morning, no matter their population. There were always groups of people heading to work, or running into the local coffee shop before hitting the highway.

There was nothing happening in Haven. He paused, turning around as he tried to listen for noise…any noise. There were absolutely no birds chirping, no kids chattering as they played. Suddenly, a block away, he saw Jack get flung backwards out of the store. “Jack!” Sam broke into a full run but was cut off by two men stepping out of an alleyway.

How could they have missed the signs? They were trained hunters. And goddam good ones too. How could there have been no signs?

“Sam Winchester?”

“Who wants to know?” he saw Jack backing away from the door as Brandi stepped out. He could feel his blood begin to boil.

“We have a message for you.”

“Yeah, what is that?” Sam reached to his back pocket.

The two men blinked and their eyes turned an inky black, sending chills down Sam’s spine.

“Sam! Get out of here!” Jack yelled from across the street.

Sam’s eyes found Jack, his own heart pounding in his ears as Brandi corralled him against a brick wall with several other men behind her. They had nothing on them that would kill demons. He’d given the knife back to Bobby and was now cursing at himself for doing so.

“Your time is limited. He wants you.”

“He? Who wants me?”

“We are only here as a warning, and if you don’t comply be prepared to deal with the consequences."

Sam watched as the man on the left nodded to the group across the street and seconds later he flinched at the scream that followed. He turned to find Jack crumpling to the ground, his eyes wide as his hand gripped a wound to his abdomen.

 


	19. Chapter 19

The throaty rumble of the Impala was the only sound as the muscle car tore through the countryside. Dean chanced a glance from the road and looked at Katie. She had the tip of her nail between her teeth and he could feel how anxious she was. Dean understood how she was feeling. He wouldn't admit it to Sam, but Dean felt responsible for his father’s death. If only he had been there he could have stopped that crazy bastard for making that deal.

He heard a sigh and looked over at her again to see that she was staring at him. He looked back to the yellow and black that zipped in front of the headlights. “What?”

Katie tore her gaze off his face and looked at his hands that were on the steering wheel. She saw the many cuts, scrapes and bruises that covered both knuckles, a clear sign he had been in a lot of fights. “So, is this what you've always wanted to be?”

Dean divided his time from the road and back to Katie. “I'm sorry?”

“This whole hunting thing? I mean who just decides one day that they want to do this for a living?”

Dean looked at her for a second than looked out his window and bit his lower lip. “This isn't a living. We don't get paid for this.”

“Then why do it?”

Dean tightened his jaw as his hold in the steering wheel increased. “We do it because we have to.”

Katie snorted and crossed her arms across her chest. “Seems kinda crappy that a father would let his sons do this. Or his daughter.” Her voice trailed off as she looked at Dean.

“Sometimes you have no choice. Dad taught us from an early age that this is what we do. It's the family business.”

“But Sam walked away, didn't he?”

Dean came to the crossroad and applied his foot to the brake, He kept his gaze on the sign that read Haven. “No matter what Sam told you, this is his life. There is no turning back from this Katie. We didn't have a choice, but you do. So..I'm gonna give you a choice. Get out of this car and just walk away. Don't look back.”

“You know I can't do that Dean. My father is in danger and I have to stop him. OK?” She reached her hand over and gently placed her hand on the hunter's arm. She could feel him flinch a bit from her touch. “I don't know what happened with your dad. But if it was him that was in trouble, would you sacrifice everything to save him?”

 

 

* * *

 

Sam stood there stunned, not believing what he just saw. Jack slid to the ground with his hand held to his stomach.

“Jack!” Sam fell to his knees as he desperately tired to move the mans hand from his stomach. Sam knew this was a mortal wound because Jack's blood was dripping from his hand and collected on the side walk.

Jack had his head dipped down, the cowboy hat lay crumpled in the dirt. He let out a groan as he struggled to his feet. “It's..not that bad.” He let out a laugh that quickly turned into a moan.

Sam looked down to see that Jack's right hand was clamped over his stomach and he could see the blood seeping through. “We're gonna get you some help.” Sam stood up from the ground and slid his hand under Jack's arms. With a groan, Sam lifted Jack up off the ground holding him up as Jack's knees buckled under him.

They only walked a few steps when they both heard a car engine. Sam raised his head and saw the shape of his brother's car racing down the main strip of town. He could hear the breaks sequel and the smell of the tires on the pavement as the huge car came to stop next to him.

“Jack!” Katie had the door open and was out of the car before it even stopped. She let out a scream as she noticed Sam was holding her father.

Jack weakly lifted his head and a smile came across the weathered face. “ Katie...” Katie became very alarmed as she saw how pale his face was.

Katie put her arm around Jack's other arm and helped Sam put him in the car. Without it being said, Katie slid in the backseat and cradled her father's head in her lap. She put a hand on his weathered face as tears slid down her face. “Hold on Daddy. OK?”

Sam sat in the passenger seat and turned his body to face the scene in the back. He felt his heartbreaking as Katie cradled her father's head in her lap and she slowly ran her hand over the lines from years of being in the sun. Sam turned back around in the seat and looked at Dean. The two brothers didn't have to say anything as Dean slammed the car in drive and peeled out on the pavement.

Katie pressed her hand onto Jack's side and she felt the warm blood ooze through her fingers. She lifted her head to see Sam looking at her and he saw the panic in her blue eyes. “Sam...he's loosing too much blood.”

Dean slammed his foot on the brake sending the car into a fishtail as the tires slid on the gravel. When the car stopped, Sam jumped out of the passenger side and he yanked open the back door. He took off his plaid shirt and handed it to Katie as she replaced her hand with the shirt. “Daddy...hold on...OK? Don't leave me.” She sobbed.

Dean opened the trunk of the Impala and placed his hand on the floor of the trunk. A false bottom opened and he grabbed a army green ammo box that was placed between several rifles. This had been his dad's medical kit that they used on each other. In this line of bushiness hospitals weren't trust worthy. They asked too many questions.

Sam pressed down on the wound as Katie kept Jack's head cradled in her lap. She smoothed his hair back as she smiled. “I remember you tucking me in at night and doing this as I slept.”

Jack's eyes fluttered open and he looked into Katie's blue eyes. He slowly lifted a hand to her face and cupped it. “My dear sweet Katherine Grace. You were a miracle. Your mother and I waited so very long for you...” He closed his eyes as his voice trailed off. “I'm so sorry that my anger and grief...pushed you away.”

Katie looked at Dean as he opened the back door holding the medical kit. “We have to get him to a hospital! What are you doing?” She felt the hand Jack had on her face slacken and she looked down to see his eyes were closed. “Dad!” She shook him and frantically looked at him, hoping he'd open his eyes again. “Jack!”

Dean slid his arms around Katie's waist and slid her out of the backseat. She kicked her legs and struggled as Dean placed her on the ground. “Let us work on him!” Dean growled as Katie swung at him.

Katie stuck her nail in her mouth as she paced back and forth behind the Impala. From the back window she could see Sam and Dean working on Jack. Her father's life was in their hands. She didn't care that she had blood all over her pale yellow night shirt, her jeans and her hair. All she cared about was the man dying in that backseat.

“Son of a bitch!”

Katie heard Dean roar and she turned her head to see him slam his fist into the backseat. Her body felt numb as she slowly walked to the door and her eyes met Sam. She read the sorrow and the grief in them and she slowly moved her head back and forth. She then looked down at Jack who lay motionless in the seat. “No.” She shook her head as she looked at Sam then at her dad. She wasn't sure what happened next. She let out a scream as her knees buckled and she felt herself falling to the ground.

* * *

 

 

“Hey, this will help you sleep.”

Katie tore her gaze from worn carpet that covered the hardwood floor. Bobby was standing in front of her holding a flask. “I don't think I can ever sleep again.” Her voice was hoarse from hours of crying. Sam and Dean had the task of building a hunters pyre and she wanted no part of that. She didn't want the last memory of her father to be watching him burn. Her eyes blinked back the tears as she tired to move that image from her mind.

“That's why there's Hunter's Helper. Have you sleep in no time. When I've had a rough hunt, I take a few pulls off of this and I go right to sleep.” Bobby slowly sat next to Katie and placed the flask into her hand. “I know it's hard Katie. But we've been all through this before. It's why some of us get in this line of work.” Bobby felt awkward as he sat next to Katie. He practically watched this girl turn into a stunning young woman, looking just like her mother.

It was Jack who wanted to tell Katie about what he did when he went out of town. Bobby told him that was foolish. He had to watch Sam and Dean walk that path. There was no way that Bobby would allow this beautiful young woman grow callus to the world. Now as he sat here, he rethought that. Maybe she would have been better prepared for what was to come. He cursed Jack for keeping who she was from Katie.

Katie swept a piece of hair behind her ear as she stared at the silver flask in her hands. It was a beautiful flask with carvings etched into body. “Is..that why my dad got into...this...”

“After your mother...Jack got a visit from John Winchester.” Bobby placed his finger under her hand and lifted it to her mouth. “There is plenty of time for questions. Right now, you need some rest”

Hunter's Helper was a concoction that was stronger than Whiskey something that would help you drift off into a dreamless sleep. It was a recipe that had been handed down by a good hunter friend. Sometimes you saw things that haunted your very dreams. Bobby watched as Katie placed her lips to the flask and her throat worked to get the liquid down.

 

Sam let out a frustrated sigh and leaned back in the chair. His large hands rubbed over his face hoping to get some of the exhaustion out of his body. He reached for the bottle of beer as Jack's last words to him rang in his ears.

“Promise me Sam. That you will tell her the truth. Grace's diary...explains it...it explains who Katie is....no matter what you find out you must keep her safe.”

Sam had so much more to ask Jack. What could possibly be in that journal?But he was never given the chance. After Jack uttered that last word, he took his last breath and died in Sam's arms. Despite the tension between the older hunter and the young man, Sam still looked up to him as a father figure. He had hoped that he could heal the wounds that divided Jack and Katie. He never got a chance to do that with his father before he died.

Had Sam known that at the hospital would be the last time he ever saw his father. He would take back the things he said. Guilt ate him every day. As he sipped his beer, he thought back to last fight he and Dean had. The one that brought him to the Chapman farm.

They had been on a hunt for the Yellow Eyed Demon. They had yet to find their father, but they were closing down on him. Then one evening, out of the blue, their father called. John had warned the boys to not go any further. To not look for him. Being the good little solider that he was taught to become, Dean complied.

Dean sighed as he looked at Sam's face. “What?”

“We're not going to Indiana.”

“We're not?”

“No..we are going to find dad. We are going to California. Dad call from a payphone..Sacramento area.”

Dean sighed. “Sam..”

“Dean,” Sam began to pace, “If this demon killed mom and Jess......and Dad's closing in, we've gotta be there. We've gotta help.”

“He doesn't want our help, Sam. He made that very clear.”

“I don't care!” Sam yelled. “I don't' care what he said...”

“He's given us an order.” Dean said sharply.

“I don't care,” Sam said firmly. “We don't always have to do what he says.”

Dean let out another sigh. “Sam, dad is asking us to work jobs. To save lives.”

“Alright...I understand...believe me...one week..just to get answers. To get revenge.”

“Look...” Dean leaned up against the car, his hands crossed over his chest.” I know how you feel.”

Sam snorted. “Do you?” Dean flinched at Sam's tone. “How old were you when mom died? Four? Jess died a year ago. How the hell would you know how I feel?”

“Dad said it wasn't safe. For any of us.” Dean shook his head . If Dad is looking after this thing...and he tells us to go to Bobby's...we go to Bobby's.”

Sam shook his head in disgust. “I don't understand the blind faith you have in that man. I mean..it's like you don't even question him.”

“Yeah! It's called being a good son.” Dean fired back. Angry, Sam popped open the trunk and began to unload things from the trunk. “You're a selfish bastard, you know that? You just do what ever you want. Don't' care what anybody else thinks.”

“That's what you think?” Sam held his backpack in his hands. “Is that how you really feel?”

“Yes it is...” Deans voice was low and husky.

Sam put his backpack over his shoulder. “Well, then..this selfish bastard is heading to California.”

He let out a sigh and placed the beer back on the wooden table. That very journal lay in front of him. It was very similar in his dads journal. Cracked worn leather covered the anterior of the book. Dreading what could be inside, Sam took his fingers and opened the cover to see Grace Katherine Colt written on the inside. He looked at the last name for a minute wondering if she was in any relations to the Colt. He flipped to the back page to see the last entry was June 1984.

He flipped several pages before he found the very first entry. Before he could get started, he heard the creak of a floorboard and he saw Dean's shadow on the wall before his brother walked inside the room. After the hunter's funeral, both brothers hardly said two words to each other.

Dean had heard what Jack said to Sam. . Dean was a little afraid of what that truth meant. He was a hunter and the first thought that came to his head: she's a monster. He was taught from an early age all monsters must be terminated. All the sings pointed to it. Her dreams and her visors. Dean knew something happened to her when she was abducted and he was afraid they had a traitor in their midst. His hunters instincts were screaming at him. Telling him to go upstairs and take care of the problem. But as a brother, he couldn't do that to Sam.

“Sam...”

Sam sighed and flipped through the pages, skimming as he read. So far, not much helped. It was all about her meeting Jack and when they dated. Thankfully it wasn't very detailed. “Don't want to hear it Dean.”

Dean sighed and leaned forward and placed his arms on the wood. “Did..ya know..get some of the farmer's daughter.”

Sam looked up at Dean shock on his face. He felt his cheeks redden a bit and he smiled and looked back down at the journal. “That's personal.”

Dean chuckled and leaned back in his chair and grabbed his glass off the table. “Way to go Sammie.”

Sam glanced up from the diary to see that Dean had laid open the diary Janice had given him. “So, anything helpful?”

“Not a damn thing,” Dean mumbled.

Sam was quiet as he heard the rustling of pages as Dean skimmed through the diary. Sam looked up when his brother muttered Son of a Bitch.

“What?”

Dean pointed to the entry he was on. “Listen to this. January 15th 1984. After years of trying to have a baby, Dale and I got fantastic news. In August we will have a wonderful bundle of joy.”

Sam looked at Dean than shrugged his shoulders. “So?”

Dean put up his hand. “Let me finish Sammie. There is more,” he paused and cleared his throat. “Dale was a little suspicious about how I was finally able to get pregnant. Tests proved that I could have a hard time getting pregnant.” Dean looked up to see if Sam was still paying attention. “What I didn't want to tell Dale, that a man came to me a month ago. He told me that he could make all my dreams come true. It must have been the trick of the light but I could swear his eyes flickered to amber.”

“When was Lexi born?”

Dean flipped through a couple of pages before he found the entry. “Uh...Febuary 20th.”

“What year?”

“Uh, 1984. Why?”

Sam held up his finger as he frantically flipped through the pages, hoping his hunch was right. He thumped the page as he found it. “May 1983. Found out today, that after years of trying, Jack and I are having a baby. If only he knew how it happened, he would not be pleased with me. Years of frustration and I was about to give up all hopes of ever having a baby. I prayed every day, but each month was the same. Then, out of the blue, this man came into our lives. He was the answers to our prayers. But there was a catch. There's always a catch. But, this has been my dream for so long.”

Dean sighed and leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “So, Grace made a deal with Y.E.D?. Son of a bitch.”

“Sounds like Janice's sister did the same. So, what does this mean Dean?”

Dean sighed and lifted his eyes to the ceiling as he heard the creak of the floorboards. Katie was up. “We need to get to the bottom of this. There is a connection here and we just have to find out what it is.”

That was the question of the hour. Sam let out a sigh as he closed the diary after finding no more entries. The last entry had been the night before Grace had died. This mystery was hanging over their heads and somehow, it involved Sam as well. Sam turned his head when he heard footsteps behind him. Katie stood in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest. She looked at Dean than at Sam.P Sam turned his head when he heard footsteps behind him. Katie stood in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest. She looked at Dean than at Sam.

Dean cleared his throat and slammed the diary shut. “That's my cue.”

“No.” Katie's voice was hoarse as she barked at him. The anger in her eyes made Dean freeze as he stood up from the chair. “This involves both of you.” She slid her eyes to Sam than back to Dean. “You have one hour to get off my property. Got it? Or I will call the sherriff and have you arrested.”

“Katie..” Sam rose from the chair. He stopped when she raised her hand at him.

“This is your fault.” Katie's bottom lip trembled as she manage to stay in control. “He's dead because of the two of you...no...Sam stop...” She took a step back as Sam began to walk towards her. “One hour.”


End file.
